


Don't Let The Whirlwind Pass By

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Brothels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Severus Snape Lives, Sex Worker Ron Weasley, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 104,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8594356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: Severus is reminded of the old adage that you cannot save someone who does not want to be saved, and takes his pleasure in it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at adultfanfiction.net, written 2009. Very rough, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> This fic is an AR where Harry and Hermione both died following the final battle, but Ron survived and through his guilt and heartbreak, cut off from his family and fell into prostitution to survive, as a means of self-punishment.
> 
> The rape & violence in this story is NOT committed between the two main characters. Despite the themes, this does have a happy ending, I assure you.

Severus Snape walked through stinking lanes and alleyways, the pungency of which could only accompany a descent into the more salubrious areas of Magical London. He switched to breathing through his mouth only to find the taste of the air every bit as rancid as the smell of it. One thin hand rose and tugged the scarf he wore up over his nose and lips. The November rain was bitterly cold and although he never wanted to admit where he was headed, he perversely couldn’t wait to get there if only to escape the weather.

 

_And that’s not the only perverse thing you’ll be doing this evening…_

 

He swallowed resignedly and looked straight ahead with hard, glaring eyes. There were ways he could have satisfied his needs from the comfort of his own home. But he could never quite bear to sully the walls with the filth.

 

_But their walls are just fine to sully with corrupt moans and bodily fluids…_

Rounding the corner he screwed the bitter thoughts up into a ball and metaphorically threw him as far away as he could. They’d come back, but with a blink they were at bay, probably until he emptied out into whichever whore he was presented with that evening. His black eyes swept the cobbles and he was relieved to find them empty. He wasn’t quite sure why he cared –nobody ever paid an additional shady figure slipping into the equally shady doorway any attention at all. Severus knew that it probably had more to do with his own judgements about what he was doing than anybody else’s. His feet carried him up stone steps to a dark doorway, looking as abandoned as ever. He pushed the door open and slipped inside.

 

“Evening,” a female voice spoke, and Severus looked up, just in time to step neatly to the side for a departing figure with their face shielded.

 

Respectfully he looked away. He doubted if anybody was proud of why they were there. Severus moved up to the woman and said nothing, waiting for her to speak, lowering the hood of his coat as he went.

 

“Your usual isn’t here,” she flicked him an apologetic glance. “Unwell.”

 

Severus faltered then. He kept his visits to one whore only so that there was less chance of discovery. Not that there was really anybody to discover him, not any more.

 

“But, the one most people consider the best is free… he thinks he’s finished but he doesn’t have to be. Do you want him?”

  
Severus gave her a curt nod. It was a miserable night and he would prefer not to have made a fruitless journey.

 

“Room on the top floor, then, last door on the right. Staying the night?”

“Not sure,” he replied quietly.

 

She waved him up the stairs and he immediately left, not wanting to be caught lingering in the lobby or generally to be in public sight any longer than he had to be. There was a reason he had not committed to a whole night with whomever he had been matched with –because he was very specific about whom he slept with. Overly fussy with his fucks as he was everything else in his life, Severus Snape refused to lie with anybody less than perfect for his expectations.

 

No matter what those expectations were, he had never quite understood how they had manifested. Maybe at Hogwarts, maybe through his period as a spy for both sides, or maybe during the loneliness after the war, thinking of when he should have died, seeing both of his Masters fall, one by his own hand, the other by Potter’s. Maybe it would not have seemed so desolate if Potter had not fallen alongside them, if all his good work had not been tainted by his own cruel death.

 

He turned up the second flight of stairs and wondered who would be waiting for him. He had pre-requisites, most men who visited did. He could remember the voice of an old acquaintance clearly in his mind, saying _‘why would you bother to part with the galleons if you didn’t like the look of who you were fucking?’_ Severus had very much agreed at the time and still did. So, as he levelled out onto the landing, he hoped he had not just wasted the energy in his thighs from climbing for nothing.

 

Gliding to the end room on the right, he knocked once as was the standard, and turned the knob of the door, instantly looking for the man waiting for him.

 

There was a figure clad in a thin robe by the window, and all Severus could see was a tall, lean form with flaming red hair. He closed the door with a slight snap and the figure jumped.

  
“Shit, sorry, I thought I was finished for the night,” the voice was low, almost husky, and the body moved. Severus saw him stub out a cigarette hastily, one hand wafting the smoke away.

“You were,” Severus said, almost apologetically. “I usually frequent somebody else but they are unwell.”

 

Severus watched as the figure straightened and shoulders tensed beneath the robe at the sound of his voice. He could see the contours of a decent if slightly too thin body beneath the almost translucent cotton. Flames of thick hair scraped the man’s shoulders through the material.

 

He should have recognised the hair, he realised, and he should have maybe guessed why the man’s shoulders had tensed. And when the figure turned round, and he knew his _face_ –undoubtedly older, unbelievably pale with dark shadows beneath his eyes and reddened lips, obviously from his last client; Severus’ jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened.

 

His mind flew back through the history, trying to remember quite why he had stumbled across Ronald Weasley in the Knockturn district’s finest whorehouse, clearly working.

 

“Sweet Circe, Weasley, is that really you?” the shock filtered through his words and Severus inwardly cursed his loss of control.

 

The redhead tugged his robe about him protectively, finishing with his arms folded tightly over his chest.

  
“I’ll do anything you want,” the low voice spoke with a little desperation. “As long as you don’t tell anybody I’m here.”

 

Severus was still ploughing through the mire of the events which had happened since the war. Of course, at the time, he had wondered what would happen to the last remaining remember of the Golden Trio, wondered how he would cope with the death of his two best friends, one of whom he had been so clearly in love with. He remembered press photographs of his pale, sorrowful face, too hurt to possibly enjoy the victory of what he and his friends had achieved whilst the rest of the magical world had pulled out the stops and danced in the streets.

 

But he drew a blank when he realised that the boy, as he was then, must have disappeared after he himself had left to make a life for himself as a Muggle. His own plan had gone hideously awry when he had been tracked down by the Ministry and told he could continue to be exonerated of his crimes but forced to work for them in compiling their evidence files on the whole sham of the war, or he could be tried with very little chance of being absolved and thrown in Azkaban.

 

Shaking himself out of the painful recollections, Severus looked back at the redhead and saw apprehensive blue eyes, a strong jaw and a long but proportionate nose. Cleanly shaven with almost elegant eyebrows, if he hadn’t been who he was Severus would actually have found himself quite satisfied with the extra leg power expended in getting up the stairs.

 

“I… forgive my silence; I am merely shocked to see you working here.”

“Not half as shocked as I was,” Ron replied to him quietly.

“Do you mind me asking why you are?” Severus remained fully ensconced in his coat as he dropped into the upholstered chair by the door; he wasn’t quite sure why but he felt a sit down was in order to process the information.

 

He watched as his ex-student walked back to the window and looked out at the rain, the brightness from a lamp post flowing in and highlighting his face. “I won’t answer that until you give me your word that you won’t tell anybody where I am.”  
“Did you break from your family?” Severus was well aware that served as another question that his possible whore would not want to answer.

 

“I’m sure you read the papers and don’t need this from me,” Ron shrugged. “I am here because I fell into it. And that’s all I’m going to tell you, Snape.”

 

The words were abrupt but they didn’t rankle Severus as they once should have. He knew he had no right in asking the questions.

  
“Do you want to use me or are you leaving?”

 

The question was so horribly blunt that Severus’ stomach turned a little, hearing the man talk about his body so flippantly. But then he knew his reaction was only born of the fact that he was talking to one of the wizarding world’s most revered war heroes reduced to nothing but a whore in a disgusting stained lane of their community. He couldn’t quite get his head around how it could ever have happened to him.

 

“I… well; I doubt anything of substance would happen without me being able to ask you more questions, so it is probably better for your, ah, schedule if I leave.”

 

“If you go it looks bad for me,” Ron turned to him then and walked closer, dropping his arms by his sides and the robe parted as he walked, allowing Severus a glance of creamy freckled skin. “And then I won’t get my cut of the money.”

“Surely if nothing happens between us then no money is involved?”

 

Severus did not expect the bitter little laugh which escaped Ron’s lips.

“Not how it works, Snape,” he shook his head and walked closer. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever asked your usual fuck where your money goes. It’s certainly not straight to him, I can tell you that much.”

 

Feeling chastened at his apparently naïve assumptions, Severus opened his mouth to ask but the redhead held up a hand to silence him.

 

“And, you should probably find a new favourite,” Ron’s eyes lowered to the floorboards of the room, highly varnished beneath his bare feet.

“I was only told that he was unwell.”

“If ‘unwell’ is the new word for dead, yeah, I guess he’s that,” Ron gestured defeatedly with his hand.

 

Severus blinked at that news. It had been a few weeks since his last visit and the dark haired man had seemed well enough then. He made questioning eyes at the redhead, who swallowed uncomfortably and looked away.

 

“Was it a client?” Severus asked carefully, thinking of the protection spells which had been on his main partner.

“No, but working in this place for long enough gets to plenty of people... He just didn’t turn up one night and then… well. It sucks, he was a good friend.”

 

Severus sat there and didn’t quite know why he was so stunned at the thought that the man he had fucked every month for the past few years had known that Ronald Weasley was there, working, just like he was.

 

“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend,” he said quietly.

“Sorry for the loss of your fuck,” Ron shrugged. “Nobody wins, as ever.”

 

He turned away then, walking away to perch down on the end of the bed. “If you’re staying, make up your mind. If not…” blue eyes swept to the door.

 

Severus eased up out of the chair and walked to the window, his boots making loud resounding clacks on the floorboards. He noticed that the room was in considerably better repair than the one he always visited. The nameless woman in the foyer’s words came back to him –that the ‘ _one most people consider the best’_ was free _._

 

“What?” Ron asked sullenly.  
“Excuse me?” Severus turned around.  
“You laughed, is something amusing?”

 

Unaware that he had done anything of the sort, Severus straightened his spine and looked down his nose at the redhead just to rally his mind into thinking coherently. “Apologies, I was not aware, and it was certainly _not_ related to our prior conversation.”

 

“Then what were you thinking about?”

 

Severus looked back at him. His other whore had never talked this much. But then he had never had such history with him, either.

 

“The woman downstairs implied that you were regarded the best within the walls of the establishment.”

 

A discomforting smirk appeared on Ron’s lips then and Severus found it repugnant that he should consider that good news. He couldn’t find any other way to interpret the curved lips.

 

“That’s only because I have no limits, I’ll do anything and I don’t have protection on me.”

“You _what_ , Weasley?” Severus knew he had snapped, but it was only on account of his shock.

 

He couldn’t believe that anybody would be as foolish as to enter into such a line of work as the redhead had without the spells to protect his body from abuse and disease.

  
“I have the disease protection, but nothing else,” Ron altered.

“Have you lost your mind? You could be murdered on any given night and nobody would have a clue!”

 

Big blue eyes looked back at Severus’ shocked face but the reddened lips did not speak again. Severus looked over his face.

 

 _Is that the point?_ The words streaked through Severus’ mind like a knife slice and his stomach turned once more at the thought that the man in front of him chose to purposefully forego protection to try and inadvertently end his life.

 

“Please tell me that’s not what you want?” the words tumbled out ungracefully and Severus raised a hand to cover his mouth. “Tell me you don’t want to die by the hands of some stinking drunk or disease ridden monster?”

“Are _you_ a stinking drunk or a disease ridden monster?” Ron asked of him.  
“No!”

“Well then, please don’t assume that all of my clients are like that.” The words were curt and cold.

 

“But you cannot _possibly_ tell me that life was so bad for you after the war that you had to resort to selling your body, Weasley!”

“I won’t tell you that, but I always assumed you were an intelligent bloke, so figure it out for yourself and let’s get on, shall we?”

 

Severus’ mouth fell open in what might have been disgust. “How can you have such casual disregard for your own safety?”

 

Ron laughed again then and got back to his feet, walking very close to Severus.

“Look at me,” he whispered, gesturing to his body and yanking open his robe.

 

Severus couldn’t help it, his dark eyes dipped down and he did as Ron asked, he looked. He saw scars, some years old; he assumed they had to be from the war. He was nearly _too_ thin and Severus could see the light corrugation of his ribs; his hips were so slight it was almost obscene. His crotch was bare and Severus wanted to look away, he was so traumatized by the fact the once-proud student he had taught was practically dangling his body on a string before him, yet he found he could not drag his eyes from the sight.

 

“You think I have regard for _any_ part of me, Snape? You think I care about anything?” He yanked the robe shut again. “I didn’t set out to be this. But I fell into it, found I was good at it. Money wasn’t bad. I needed an out.”

“Why didn’t you just disappear into the Muggle world?” Severus asked, well aware that it wouldn’t have worked –after all, it hadn’t for him.

“They find you everywhere but the places they really don’t want to look,” Ron shrugged simply, sad eyes falling down between them to the floor.

 

“Your family…” Severus let his words trail off as he heard another bitter laugh.  
“Would be devastated, yeah, I know.”

“They don’t know…”  
“You think I’d still be here if they did?” Ron laughed. “Christ, you know, and there was me thinking you were so much more intelligent than I ever was. You’re really not doing yourself any favours, Snape.”

 

The slights on his intellect were nothing, Severus found, compared to his crashing horror about what the man was allowing to happen to his body and soul.

 

“How old are you?” he asked quietly, too stunned to manage the mental calculation he could easily have made at any other time.

“Twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three and the finest whore in Knockturn, McGonagall would be so proud if she knew,” Severus raised an eyebrow, his sarcasm running back to him as the shock diluted a little.

“Well, so what?” Ron shrugged. “Nobody needs to ever know where I am, what I’m doing. Don’t you think it’s probably better for them to think I’m dead?”

 

“If you found out Potter was still alive, would you have appreciated thinking he was dead for five years?” Severus cocked his head as he spoke.

“Don’t mention him,” Ron’s head twitched irritably, and though he marshalled his emotions well Severus knew he had struck a nerve.

“Or Granger?”

 

He didn’t know why he was standing there trying to provoke a rise out of the redhead whose primary job for the night was to service him. He wasn’t even sure why he was so affected by finding out about his chosen profession. _If it was chosen at all…_

 

“I am finding it hard to comprehend how someone like you ended up here,” he gave a wave to the room.

“I find it hard to believe a man like _you_ frequents here,” Ron raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You disappeared. I remember. If you need sex, surely you could have found a partner to give it to you?”

 

Severus lowered his eyes, willing the colour flaming on his cheeks to die down before he spoke again. “I was found,” he replied simply. “Found and forced into an agreement which left me with no choice but to return to the wizarding world.”  
“Let me guess, that or Azkaban, right?” Ron shrugged with knowing smile.

“Yes.”

“Exonerated my arse,” Ron commented and turned away, turning to pad aimlessly around the space in the room.

“Quite.”  
“You’ve still not said why you’re here. Or if you’re staying,” Ron pointed out. “Seriously, if you don’t want me, Snape, get out; I might be able to earn something from someone who actually wants my body tonight.”

“Do you not understand my reaction?” Severus frowned at him. “How much of a shock it is to find you here, whoring yourself to all and sundry?”

 

“It’s _not_ all and sundry,” Ron laughed disbelievingly. “As you said. I’m the best. That means I only get the select cut.”  
“Are you implying I should think myself lucky to be allowed into your room?” Severus wanted to laugh himself at the absurdity.

“I suppose you could put it that way,” Ron shrugged. “So…?”

 

“I have your discretion?” Severus looked at the closed door.

“If I have yours,” Ron bargained. “Nobody finds out I’m here Snape. Anyone does and I know which door I’ll be knocking on, don’t I?”

“Are staff _allowed_ to threaten their clients?” Severus narrowed his eyes accusingly.

“No. But then you’re not going to make a scene, are you? You don’t like being here.”

 

Severus wondered how the redhead knew that. He reached up and undid the buttons of his coat.

 

“I can always tell,” Ron shrugged. “You carry yourself like this is all beneath you, but in your eyes it’s all there. Disgust, fear, self-loathing. You see enough people up close like I have, Snape, and trust me; you get to know body language.”

“That makes me even more pitying for you,” Severus commented bluntly, stripping off the heavy garment and placing it on the chair he had been sitting in.

“Don’t waste your brainwaves feeling sorry for me,” Ron muttered. “I could leave if I wanted to enough. I wasn’t forced into this.”

“So why _are_ you here? Why sell yourself so utterly and inconceivably short?”

“It’s easy. It’s nothing. It’s money.”

“For the sexual gratification?”

“Fuck no; you think any of the selfish bastards that come through that door give one shit about me?” Ron asked incredulously. “You think they care if I get off?”

 

Severus looked at him with pitiful eyes. “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, there’s your answer then. I don’t think after all this time I even know what sexual gratification is.”  
“How long?”

“Three years, two here.”  
“Don’t you fear being recognised?”

“I have been before.”

“But nobody has outed your position?”

 

“You’ll find as you leave why nobody who’s with me outs me,” Ron sent him a look. “If they want me again, they’re sworn to an oath of silence, if they don’t want me again, she Obliviates them. Just the memories of the evening, of course, nothing more.”

“She is willing to do that for you?”

“She’d bend over for me herself it brought her more of the kind of money I make her.”

“How many men do you see in a night?”  
“You’re the fifth…”

 

Severus’ mouth was open yet again as he looked suddenly at the bed, wondering what kinds of debauchery the sheets had seen since the early evening.

  
“It’s clean, don’t worry about it,” Ron snorted.

“I was thinking of you, not the hygiene of the bed,” Severus snapped, his hair flying about his face as he whirled to look at the redhead. “I must confess I cannot settle my conscience with all this.”  
“Don’t think about your conscience. Hell, you’re in a whorehouse. Surely you should have left it in the designated box in the hallway? I don’t think you can be in one of these places with one…”

 

Severus had to concede the redhead had a fair point. Only their combined history made him reluctant to remain. If his usual had still been alive he felt quite confident he would have already reached orgasm in the time they had simply stood talking.

“So,” Ron said weightily. “Staying or going, Snape? Remember, I’ll do whatever the hell you like as long as you keep your mouth shut.”  
“Which makes no never mind really, does it Weasley, if I’ll be oathed or Obliviated on my way out?”

“Exactly.”

 

With that the pointless robe adorning the redhead’s shoulders was cast onto the floor and he was fully naked in the flickering candlelight. He walked calmly to the bed and laid down on it, sending his eyes down onto the sheets beneath his body. He reached out one hand and provocatively patted the space next to him.

 

Severus was frozen. He could not deny that his former student set an incredibly attractive outline as he lay stretched out on the bed, back against the headboard, feet crossed at the ankles and everything in between laid out like a buffet. He obviously sensed Severus’ gaze and looked up at him.

 

“It’s alright to like what you see,” he said softly. “I don’t care who you are, you’re paying money to be here.”

“That is _so_ wrong, on so many levels,” Severus breathed as he climbed onto the bed, kicking off his boots, which he had never bothered to lace correctly, as he went.

“So, what would you like from me…?” Ron asked in a quiet tone.

“Sex,” Severus rolled his eyes.

“What specifically? What did you do with your other?”

 

Severus noticed how nobody ever seemed willing to mention names. He didn’t know the name of the woman who ran the place, nor had he ever known the true name of the man he had fucked for four years. But then, as Severus poised kneeling on the unfamiliar mattress, he wondered why he did not feel the loss of that man more. Maybe it would hit him later as he crawled out of the shower, scrubbed red raw and physically disgusted with himself, as always. Maybe then he would feel remorse for the connection he had lost.

 

“We just had sex,” he said simply. “With myself as the top.”

“Nothing else, no oral, no foreplay, nothing on the side like bondage?” the list of exploits rolled off the redhead’s tongue with unashamed speed.

“Foreplay is a… well. This is not easy for me,” Severus knew the ugly colour was back in his face.

“It never is when you’re trying to deny what you truly want,” Ron said consolingly, and he reached out a hand and ran it up Severus’ thigh.

“Why do you assume that is my situation?”

“So tense,” Ron’s fingers crept spindle-like to his crotch and rested there. “If this was just an aside for you, you would hold yourself differently… you act straight, you don’t want anybody to know, so you creep out in the depth of night to get what you want… you’re pretty textbook.”

 

Again, Severus knew it should have offended him but all he could think of were the fingers on his crotch. He mourned their loss when Ron shifted, coming up on his knees to kneel in front of him.

 

“Do you have any limits?” Ron asked, reaching out to unbutton the dark shirt he was wearing.

 

Severus thought. It had been so long since he had started visiting he could not easily remember if there was anything he had outlawed. “I don’t really know…”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Ron gave him a gentle smile which Severus knew it was wrong to take comfort from.

 

_But then there’s nothing right about this, letting him whore himself for you…_

 

He jumped when fingers brushed the bare skin of his chest and the shirt was pushed back off his shoulders. Everything seemed to burst into life then, including his erection, as the redhead kneed closer and their bodies touched. Severus’ arms were trailing behind him, still stuck in the shift sleeves where Ron had left them. The first hand was joined by a second and he felt warm palms slide down and around to rest on his back, where the fingertips pressed in slightly.

 

“Smooth,” he commented randomly, marvelling at the absence of calluses or even general roughness in the hands holding him.

“In this line of work it pays to look after yourself,” Ron murmured, and then words ceased as he took the liberty of pressing his lips to Severus’.

 

Severus nearly pushed him away; he was so shocked at the passionate way the lips worked against his own and the way the redhead’s tongue swiped to demand entrance. He batted away the surprise, though, and smoothed his own hands into place on the mirroring bare back of the man holding him.

 

He opened his eyes, not remembering when they had closed to see that Ron had his own firmly shut. Severus barely had time to spare the thought that he would have, too, if it were him working, before it was chased away by the hands slipping off his back to undo his trousers. The fingers were nimble as they rolled down the zipper and fought their way inside, brushing against his erection through plain underwear.

 

It was all done with such finesse, such ease, that Severus found himself unsurprised at the redhead’s popularity. He was being stripped with barely any effort and he didn’t notice when the trousers fell completely down around his knees because he was so wrapped up in the kiss and the tongue plundering his mouth.

 

“On your back,” Ron whispered, pulling away slightly and finally regarding Severus with what, he saw when up close, were brilliantly sapphire blue eyes.

 

_The kind of eyes that hook you in and embed in your soul…_

 

He fell down onto his side willingly and didn’t protest when Ron dragged off his trousers. Socks and underwear soon followed. Severus remembered at this point he usually felt so ashamed he considered running for the door. Whether Ron sensed that, Severus didn’t know, but he didn’t have the time to reach his pinnacle of self-loathing as his body was covered with another and then soon he was being kissed again, with the same determination and heat as before. Fingers were running riot through his hair, something Severus had never quite experienced before. He always washed it before he visited, assuming that there was no point in making himself more unattractive to the poor soul lumbered with him than his given face already was. Even still, it would never be _nice_ hair, not in his mind and his previous visits had never involved it being touched as it currently was. Not nice like the hair he reached up and sank his own hands into.

 

He marvelled at the sensations on his long, thin digits, weaving through thick silk which didn’t tangle at all. All of a sudden the redhead groaned into the kiss and Severus realised it was because of what he was doing, and was caught unknowing of whether he should stop.

 

“Nice,” Ron assured him as he rose to catch a few breaths. Severus saw the surprise registered in his face.

 

_Is he really so untouched by the others that come through his door?_

 

“Do they never touch you?” the question was blurted and rough, Severus closed his eyes in embarrassment.

“Some do. Never as gently as that, though, I assure you.”

 

The lips moved then to kiss down his neck and Severus lolled his head back on the pillow with a slight groan of his own, losing himself in the sensation of hot lips, wet tongue and sharp teeth razing his flesh. He gasped as it passed over the defined bump of his Adam’s apple and broke into pants when the mouth settled at the hollow of his throat and sucked.

 

It was as though the simple action sent sparks crackling along his skin right into the heart of his groin. He was harder than hard, feeling a trickle of fluid in the join between stomach and pubic mound.

 

“Stop,” he begged finally when he was quite sure he would come undone.

 

Ron obliged instantly and Severus pitied the loss even though it had been him who had called a halt to the beautiful sensation.

“I will always obey your commands to stop,” Ron assured him, placing another kiss on his mouth. “This is, after all, about you.”

 

The caring resonated in the husky tone and Severus wondered how the hell the redhead found it within himself to give a damn about who he was servicing.

 

 _He must lead a miserable fucking life, getting nothing but the money for himself, which he cannot use as I bet he is here every single night…_ It was incomprehensible to Severus.

 

“Don’t question it,” Ron said simply, as if he had read his mind. “Just enjoy it.”

 

Severus was about to reply that he was not particularly sure that he could when a firm hand gripped his cock and began to stroke up and down in a slow, assured rhythm. Ron settled himself on his side along Severus’ body.

“Lift your head up slightly,” he whispered, Severus complied and felt an arm sneak into the vacated space, the adjoined hand moving to stroke the shoulder it settled against.

 

One leg was tugged between Ron’s own and held there. On instinct Severus bent his arm up to lace his fingers through those of the hand on his shoulder and he felt suddenly trapped into the intimacy in a way he had never experienced before. Ron’s style was very different to what he had known for four years. _Longer than that. Nobody has ever held you quite like this…_

 

Ignoring the thoughts about how miserable it made his life that only a whore had ever held him so beautifully, Severus raised his chin intimating another kiss which Ron freely gave him, keeping his hand at the same pace.

 

Severus kept his eyes open for the kiss, assessing the way that Ron’s eyelashes were not long enough to reach his cheekbones but were lengthy enough to give him beauty. The freckles across said cheekbones and his nose were stark against the pale tired skin. A long fringe brushed over Severus’ own face and he moaned at the feel.

 

The kiss broke as the need for air became apparent and then their eyes met. Ron seemed to take his own fill of the face before him and Severus suddenly longed to know what he was thinking. From the kind set of the few lines on his young face, he was confident that he wasn’t completely displeased.

 

_Idiot, he’s being paid to fuck you. Of course he’s not going to show he finds you repulsive._

 

“Don’t question it,” Ron said again, his eyebrows rising slightly. “Not everything is calculated, Severus, though I understand why you of all people might feel that it is.”

 

Severus couldn’t find it within him to point out that he had never given Ron the permission to slide into a first name correspondence, but then he felt a tight squeeze on his erection and realised that it was probably far too late for them to be calling each other by anything else, even if he _was_ paying for the privilege of that hand being there.

 

“Do you like oral?” the question was whispered breathily in his ear and Severus hated the shudder which ripped down his spine.  
“I… I am not very experienced in the art,” he confessed, closing his eyes.  
“So you really did just fuck, huh?” Ron swallowed his disbelieving laugh.

“Yes,” Severus murmured.

“Well, that’s fine by me… but you… there’s more to it than that.”

“To what?”

“Sex, more than just fucking… let me show you?”

 

Severus nodded without saying anything or even opening his eyes, but he regretted the loss of the comforting hold Ron had held him in when he moved to settle between his thighs, which he pushed apart with warm hands.

 

He felt a wet heat engulf the tip of his cock and he groaned aloud, arching up, but the hands pinned his hips to the bed and spread out their fingers. He lost himself in the activity encompassing his arousal; firm lips sliding up and down, at the peak of the movements a wet tongue swirling across the head before it slid down the underside with the lips. Soon he was panting, but he remained in the darkness, unable to believe that the feeling would be any better for seeing the redhead down between his thighs.

 

It wasn’t the first time he had been sucked off. _But it’s the first time it’s ever felt so damned good…_

 

The sliding ceased and fingers curled around the base, holding his erection upright whilst the sinful tongue set to properly licking at the head. He hissed as it dug into the slit and then swirled again. Ron set into a rhythm of swiping broadly with the flat of his tongue, then digging into the flesh and swirling away the slight sting the previous action had created. He repeated it over and over until Severus thought he would go mad with the impending storm of orgasm building up in his balls.

  
“S-stop,” he breathed, and just as before when the lips had been assaulting his throat, they were removed, the fingers relaxed and his cock settled down to rest against his stomach.

 

“Why do you keep asking me to stop when you’re enjoying yourself?” Ron asked curiously, and Severus was finally forced to open his eyes.

“I want to come inside you,” he muttered, lowering his eyes from the expectant face.

“And you don’t think you’d manage it more than once?” Comprehension dawned in the young voice.

“Do… do most of your clients…?”

“Yeah…  But it’s fine, remember, this is about what you want.”

 

Severus nodded dizzily and pushed himself into a sitting position, his hair swinging forward to swamp around his face. His eyes trailed up the creamy thin body before him and swallowed slightly when it passed over the half-hearted erection there.

 

“How do you do it?” he asked suddenly, flicking his eyes up to find Ron’s, as though he would receive a more honest answer from them than the redhead’s mouth.

“What, do this?” Ron asked, and sighed when Severus nodded in confirmation. “I… it’s not all bad, I suppose. But like I said before, most of them don’t give a damn whether I come or not. So it doesn’t really matter unless they want me to be the top.”

“And then what?” Severus reached forward, his blood alive with the daring as fingertips brushed a lightly dusted thigh, feeling the hairs there.

“I think of anything that works,” Ron gave him a small smile and looked down at his hand. “Want me to lie down so you can explore properly?”

 

He didn’t bother to wait for a confirmation and Severus watched as the rangy form shifted, making his ribs all the more obvious as his skin stretched. He saw a strong enough back, freckled like the rest of the redhead, interlaced what looked like welt marks.

  
“What are they?” Severus frowned, reaching out for them but Ron turned and lay down before he could make contact.

“The reminder of somebody else’s night with me,” Ron just answered cryptically and Severus fought down the nausea again. “Come on, don’t dwell on anything too much… it seriously doesn’t work to dwell on _anything_ in this place, Severus.”

 

It was still such a shock to hear his name on the reddened lips that Severus slumped a little, and seconds later he had planted his face firmly in his hands. He heard nothing, not the creaking of the bed with movement or a voice. Ron simply laid there and waited for him to take the next action.

 

“How can you do it?” he muttered through his fingers. “How can you lay there so fucking brazenly for me? I’ve… I taught you when you were eleven, for fuck’s sake!”

“Well, I’m not eleven any more.”

“Thank God or then I really _would_ be going to hell.”

“Oh don’t be stupid,” Ron snorted. “This means nothing. You pay for sex, it doesn’t make you evil.”

“Plenty would disagree with you.”

“Well then ‘plenty’ have never been lonely, or abandoned, or hurt, have they?”

 

Severus lowered his hands and fixed Ron with a confused stare.

 

“Look, I’m lying here, asking you to touch me,” Ron waved a hand at himself. “Please, stop wasting our time if you’re just going to run away.”

 

Anger finally blossomed into his bloodstream at the rebuke, the implication of his cowardice, and his lips curled up into a trademark sneer.

  
“Heh,” Ron shook his head. “Now _that’s_ the Severus Snape I remember.”

 

Severus moved forward, trailing his hand up from one knee all the way to the man’s hip, making sure his fingers dipped down to tickle the delicate inner-thigh area. Ron merely watched him with interested blue eyes and didn’t bat an eyelid when the hand chose to creep over his crotch and fondle there. Severus settled by his side and turned his head to kiss the redhead.

 

Again it was new. He brought one hand up and laced it into the thick hair, curling his fingers so it snagged around them. The responsive mouth beneath his own opened as soon as his tongue presented for entry and he found himself leading the kiss, something he had never been confident in. Severus was surprised then to feel the cock he was fondling hardening.

 

He pulled back with a few tacking kisses and regarded the face next to his own.

 

“I thought you would be different,” Ron assessed quietly.

“How so?”

“You seemed… well. A man that could keep a class deathly quiet with a whisper and have them cowering when he shouted… the sort of man you would look at and assume to be powerful in bed.”

“And I suppose you’d know having fucked half the wizarding population?”

 

Ron fell silent, blinking a few times before shrugging. His reaction only served to disquiet Severus further. He wondered what had happened to the fiery boy who would fight back against his cutting remarks, look at him scornfully and call him a bastard beneath his breath.

 

“I would be, if you were female,” Severus lowered his eyes to the sheets and firmly kept them there.  
“Why is a man so different?” Ron asked then, reaching forward and taking hold of his erection again, giving it gentle strokes as he spoke. “Same principles. You still stick it inside a body…”

“But a man is different to a woman… hard angles… and I… well. My upbringing was that men were dominating. So two men together presents a problem.”

“How can you let something from your childhood affect something you obviously enjoy?”

 

“I’m not paying you for a therapy session,” Severus growled pointedly. “I’m paying you for a-”

“Fuck, yes, I get it. But you’re not into it. Is it because it’s me, because you can’t get over me being what I am?”

“Seeing how you ended up is undoubtedly affecting me,” Severus confessed.  
“I’ve not ‘ended up’ anything,” Ron replied indignantly. “I’ve probably got more money than you have, and a better apartment.”  
“But the point is you’re here with me and not in it,” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“I would have been had you not walked through the door.”

“Well then maybe it was fate that I did.”  
“Maybe it was, maybe tonight would have been the night I decided to follow your friend.”

 

All this was said whilst the redhead still continued to stroke his cock, which Severus thought pushed to the bounds of sanity. “How can you sit doing that when you imply tonight might have been the night you took your own life?”

“You’re not pushing my hand away,” Ron looked down between them.

 

He squeezed harder then and sped up the movement, letting his wrist flip freely back and forth, keeping his fingers in tight rings. Severus gasped and forgot all about the conversation whilst he was teased back to full hardness.

 

“Are you going fuck me or not?” Ron’s voice was a low growl and Severus moaned in response. “Then fuck me so you can get the hell out of here and we can both stop discussing things we’d rather not.”

 

The hand was gone then and Ron summoned something from the bedside table and worked the lid off a jar. He slid his fingers inside and then without warning coated Severus’ cock with the cool gel. Severus fell back on his hands with his legs stretched out on the bed to give him better access and watched as his member was slicked up. Ron replaced the lid.

  
“What about you?”

“Remember, you’re number five,” Ron muttered quietly, but then seemed to change his mind. Severus watched with equally divided amounts fascination and revulsion as the lid was removed once more, fingers dipped in the gel and the man reached behind and plunged his own fingers into his arse, stretching. “Where and how do you want me?”

 

Severus faltered again, thinking on all his past exploits. He hated seeing their faces; it was as though they were a window to their souls as they came for him. And they always did. He found it abominable to consider that they wouldn’t, and was slightly scared of the fact that Ron might not.

 

“On your back,” Severus said decisively without the smallest clue why, and watched as the redhead instantly fell down as requested, his knees bent up with his feet flat on the bed.

 

Then he moved with stalking slowness, smoothing his palms up Ron’s shins, over his knees and back down the other side on the tops of his thighs, and then as he settled between his legs he crept them up to rest on his hips. He felt his hair swing past his face as he looked down at the redhead who gazed up at him.

 

“Whenever you want.”

 

Severus didn’t reply to him but leant down and kissed him again, positioning himself in between his legs and their chests touched. He was surprised by the groan which rumbled out of the redhead’s mouth as they met and the way the hardened arousal pressed into his stomach. If it was unusual for him, Ron did not comment, he merely continued the kiss and wrapped his arms around Severus’ back, holding him tightly.

 

The passion which had swept him away when Ron had first kissed him came back in spades, and Severus was able to successfully chase away the nagging thoughts in his mind which made him feel nauseous on contemplation. He felt fingers tugging at his hair and wondered how the redhead had known he liked it.

 

_He appears to have become a master at reading body language… but then his trade is in bodies… no wonder, I suppose…_

Severus let out a shuddering gasp when he felt that one of Ron’s hands had slid all the way down his back and crept over his arse, fingers sliding down the crack and teasing his entrance. He pulled up from the kiss to deal with the sensations wracking his lower half -of tingling, of probing, of fearing being breached.

 

“Oh gods stop,” he moaned, closing his eyes.

“You don’t really want me to stop, do you?” the replying voice was thick and full of enticement.

“No,” the betraying word fell from Severus’ lips before he could stop it.

 

He bucked and clenched around the finger which slid into him, willing his limbs to stop trembling. The hand in his hair pushed his head down onto a pale shoulder, his cheek pressed into the skin. Severus simply closed his eyes and felt his cock harden when the finger pressed deeper and moved a little.

 

And then, as if it were more than just a ‘paid for fuck’, as though they _weren’t_ in the middle of a whorehouse, he felt a gentle kiss pressed into his dark hair with such tenderness his heart thudded.

 

_How on earth can he lie here and do this?_

 

“I’m not like this with everyone,” the whisper filtered down, Severus didn’t believe it for a second. “But you… you’re so scared, reserved…”

 

He couldn’t particularly deny that, he knew. Severus groaned as the finger slid out and the hand rested demurely across his cheeks. Missing the full sensation, he looked up to find a strange expression smattered across Ron’s pale face.

 

“Is something wrong?” he asked immediately, levering up.

“No,” Ron assured him quietly. “I just… with getting the select cut, you get the experienced men… I haven’t... well. You’re very nervous and I’ve not been with anybody like that in a long time. It’s refreshing, if you’ll believe that.”

 

Severus’ glance must have implied that he didn’t because Ron flushed slightly and looked apologetically off to the side. Unwilling to cause him discomfort, Severus bent his head and kissed him again, teasing his mouth open and his tongue out to dance. Fingers wound around his hair once more and the passion surged back.

 

He couldn’t place why that night was different, why the redhead beneath him was so much _better_ at what he did than the man Severus had seen for the past four years, why his blood was pounding so much harder. He didn’t like the thought of it being their history that made it so sweltering that he thought he might melt. Severus was overcome with the sudden urge to touch, to bring pleasure and make the hot body even more heated and, more importantly, to bring it to orgasm.

 

As he reached for the hard erection pressing into his belly, he suddenly thought that he might understand Ron’s ability to work as he did a little more. Smoulderingly hot beneath his touch, he gave the penis a few strokes in his hand maintaining the kiss, which he then broke off in favour of looking down at the face contorting with pleasure beneath him.

 

_Which is fucking absurd because you loathe looking at their faces…_

 

But there was an elegant beauty in the way Ron’s eyes were half-closed, sapphires lurking beneath the lids, the way his mouth was open in a soundless pant. When Severus sped up his hand the eyes shut all the way and his whole head was thrown back, highlighting his throat. He wanted to bend and press his lips to it, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the man’s expression.

 

Eyes cracked open again, Severus guessed that the redhead had sensed that he was being watched. Confusion flickered within the sapphires for a moment before it was blinked away to be replaced with a determined returning gaze.

 

_He doesn’t understand why I’m touching, why I’m watching…_

 

Severus wasn’t about to tell him, either. If he was with someone who could be regarded as the best in the house, who had a woman willing to commit illegal Obliviations merely to keep him on staff, but who couldn’t understand his own beauty and worth, Severus wasn’t going to waste his breath on adoration.

 

He knew well enough from those who had tried to tell him the same –if the person didn’t want to believe it then they never would.

 

So instead he bent again, sucked the redhead’s lower lip into his mouth and nibbled slightly, appreciating the moan which rose out of the open cavern. He slid his hand out from between them and with very little resistance he moved back and pulled the pliant body up into a sitting position without thinking.

 

Arms properly looped around him and Severus let Ron take the lead as he felt his legs be straddled, their lips never parting even when firm hands pushed him down onto his back and he realised what was about to happen. Ron sat up again, and one toned arm disappeared behind his thin body. Then Severus felt fingers on his cock followed by the all-encompassing heat as Ron lowered himself down onto it.

 

Severus threw his head back with his eyes closed, his hands making fists of the bedsheets as the fingers around him withdrew and reappeared on his stomach. And then when the man began to ride him, slowly at first, allowing himself to adjust to his width and length, Severus let out a moan louder than he was sure he’d ever made in his life.

 

“That’s it,” the low voice rumbled into his ears as though they were spoken directly into his ear canal. “Lose yourself in it… it’s just me and you…”

 

 _Nobody should sound that damn enticing…_ The thought sounded desperate and whining even in his own mind as another whimper broke through his lips as the pace sped up. He could hear the slapping of skin on skin as he was ridden and the pants coming through the reddened lips above him from the exertion. Severus wondered whether Ron was touching himself.

 

Opening his eyes proved that he was not. Gathering all his strength (which was harder than he had ever thought it could be, fighting against the pleasure) Severus pushed himself up to sit with one arm locked out behind him, and curled the other hand around the bobbing erection. Ron immediately hissed and threw his head back, hair flying off his face and Severus could just envision in his mind’s eye the way it would tumble down his back, shifting as he bounced up and down on the cock inside of him.

 

“Oh fuck yes!”

 

The shout was broken and breathy but that only made it all the more sexual to Severus who couldn’t resist throwing forth his other arm and locking it around the narrow waist, holding himself upright. Unable to move as he had been without dislodging Severus, Ron slowed the pace and wrapped his own arms around Severus’ neck, pulling on his hair to tilt his head back for another searing kiss.

 

That was all Severus needed for the tightness to return to his sac and the storm to gather again. The growl he released into the kiss was positively feral and Ron seemed to drink it straight down into his blood. He tightened his grip on the hair he held and Severus cried out in shock and bliss as he felt tight muscles clench around his dick, forcing him into climax far too early, he realised, for what he wanted. He wanted the fire in his veins to last forever.

 

He canted his hips as he poured out into the tight passage, moaning as he felt it wash back around him. Lost in his own pleasure, he didn’t notice his firm grip still around Ron’s erection. But whether it was the feeling of it being there, or the noises Severus was making, or a mixture of all of the factors together, when Severus’ hand slipped slightly there was a desperate moan and sticky wetness everywhere, flooding the space between them. Severus felt it land on his own chest.

 

Shuddering breaths followed the moan as the cock twitched in the palm of Severus’ hand, still heavily leaking. He looked up into a shocked, almost frightened face and frowned in concern. But just as before, Ron blinked away the expression and arranged his features into a sated look of pleasure, which Severus wasn’t entirely convinced was an act, and swallowed hard.

 

The air around them settled as they remained in position, the only sounds in the room their laboured breathing. Severus’ hips twitched with discomfort as he began to soften, still lodged deeply within the young man straddling him, and it seemed to jerk them both back to their senses. Ron delicately manoeuvred off his body, letting Severus’ wilting cock drop and loll obscenely against his thigh. He looked down at it, wondering what to do next. His first reaction was usually to throw his clothes on and run. But that didn’t feel right, or what he actually wanted, this time.

 

He looked to Ron to see what he was doing, which turned out to be holding his wand and shooting wordless spells at himself. Then he turned with a small smile and did the same for Severus, who bit into his bottom lip as one cleaned within his passage. He turned questioning eyes to Ron.

 

“I just thought… after what I did, you might feel… well. Doesn’t matter, right?” He shrugged. “Just get off a sec,” he motioned to the bedsheets.

 

Severus rolled off, surprised but glad of his attention to hygiene, and he felt tired and sleepy as his feet took on his body weight. He looked around again at the room whilst Ron worked and ambled to the window, wondering how he felt so comfortable walking around naked. Normally he dove straight back into his clothes, eager not to be seen out for them for a second longer than necessary. On his more uptight days he never even really got them off.

 

“Done,” Ron called to him. “What do you normally do…?”

“ _Normally_ I would have been three streets away by this point,” Severus murmured, turning back to him, to find that Ron had slipped back into the dark robe which had fallen to the floor.

“But you’re not tonight,” Ron cocked his head with a small smile, which was neither teasing nor particularly friendly, and it fell from his lips as he turned away to a small cabinet. “Do you drink?”

 

“Yes,” Severus answered tentatively, padding back to the bed and watching as Ron knelt and pulled out wine and two glasses.  
“Are you going to be staying…?” Ron asked quietly over his shoulder.

“That is up to you.”

“No, Snape, it’s up to you, remember, your money, your time, your wants.”

 

Severus noticed the immediate switch back to his surname and balked slightly, the hatred beginning to seep into his veins at what he had done, what he had felt for the man now apparently back to coldness.

 

“Sit down,” Ron gestured to the bed with the bottle as he stood up. “Unless you want to go in which case I won’t bother opening this.”

 

Severus didn’t know what made him sit down, but he did. And not only did he sit down; he slid under the covers of the bed and pulled them up around his waist so he felt more comfortable. Ron said nothing as he poured wine into a levitating glass and passed it to him, before pouring his own and sinking down onto the mattress. He took a deep mouthful and set the bottle down with a clunk on the floorboards.

 

Severus watched him carefully, seeing his eyes trained determinedly on the sheets.

 

“Thank you,” Ron said suddenly after swallowing another mouthful –his glass was already nearly empty. “You didn’t have to do that, you know…”  
“Yes I did,” Severus said in a low tone, taking his own swig of wine. It was deep and rich, velvety on his tongue and dry mouth. “I… don’t think I could cope with what I do if the person I was with did not receive pleasure from it.”

 

Ron looked up at him then. “And that just makes me wonder why the hell you come here… there are hardly any…”

 

Severus looked back at him uncomfortably. “You seemed surprised every time I touched you.”  
“That’s because I was,” Ron drained the glass and set it down next to the bottle. He shimmied beneath the sheets and slid the robe off his shoulders, tugging it out and throwing it on the floor.

“Do you stay here often?” Severus asked quietly.

“Not really. Not many people choose to stay the night.”

“I won’t,” Severus assured him. “I’ll be gone by dawn.”

“Again, actually better for me if you stay,” Ron said sheepishly. “Then it goes down as an all night visit and I won’t have to work tomorrow night.”

“What counts as all night?” Severus took another mouthful.  
“Seven in the morning, and you can leave via the back entrance and apparate to wherever you want. Totally sealed off and nobody will see you. But, if you have somewhere to be, don’t worry about it, I’ll live.”

 

Severus looked over him then, seeing the extra tiredness which had crept onto his face.

  
“And what do you do with people who stay all night?”

“More of the same,” Ron shrugged, curling up in an upright ball, hooking his arms around his shins with the sheets forming a barrier between his body and thighs. “Fuck until they fall asleep; wake them up at half past six…”

“I assure you, you don’t have to do anything of the sort with me,” Severus knocked the rest of the glass back. “To be perfectly frank, I’d be willing to part with the money just so that you would receive a decent night’s sleep.”

 

Ron looked at him sharply as if he’d branded him. “You think I sleep decently anywhere?”

“About as well as I do,” Severus murmured, setting down his glass. Without waiting for invitation he slid further down until he was lying horizontal, trying not to think of all the bodies that might have been there before him, forcing the thorough hygiene spells Ron had performed to the forefront of his mind.

 

He was surprised when the redhead unfurled his body and lay down next to him, not quite touching.

 

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked quietly, reaching for his wand. With a swipe he cut the candles, and they both inhaled the smell of the smoke rising to form a haze in the room.

“Very much,” Severus admitted to the not-quite-darkness.

 

The lamp post outside the window spilt yellowed light onto the floorboards and stopped the room from ever being completely dark.

“I don’t like being alone with them in the dark,” Ron explained, noticing Severus looking at the window. “It’s… well. I know you think I’m stupid… but I guess my fear instincts haven’t died completely.”

“I understand,” Severus turned back to him, and was startled to find the redhead much closer than before.

 

Hands skimmed over his flesh and he found himself in an embrace with another warm kiss placed on his lips.

“I don’t want-” Severus never got the word ‘more’ out, because Ron simply pulled away and settled himself in a tight grip around his thin body, finally resting his head on his shoulder.

 

Severus lay in stunned silence for a moment, blinking at the canopy of the bed. He hadn’t even noticed it was a four poster.

“Is this alright?” Ron whispered. “I thought it was… reading you is quite hard… normally your type would want this… too scared to be held yourself, so you want to hold me but take the same comfort from it…”

“Just a shock,” Severus murmured, ignoring the psychoanalysis, and then placed the arm of the shoulder Ron was resting on around the slender back, and reached across with the other to rest his hand on the slightly bony hip.

 

 _Does he do this for all of them?_ Severus couldn’t believe the wash of jealousy in his mind. _But then he said not many ever stay… so…_ He had to ask, he couldn’t hold it in.

 

“How do you… what you did with me. Are you like that with everybody?”

“I am what they want me to be.”

“But how many of them want that… want you to be gentle, want you to feel good during your work?”

“Very few,” Ron replied honestly. “I actually can’t remember the last time someone purposefully touched me to help me along…”

 

Severus swallowed hard and stared at the canopy, glad that he had the redhead’s body to hold onto, without it he felt sure his fists would have clenched and his self-loathing would have properly set in.

 

“Do you not fear being discovered?” he asked quietly after a while, suddenly finding their silence hard to bear.

“By who?”

“Well… your family, or if this place as a whole was discovered by the Ministry. It’s an illegal brothel… you know the sentences, I assume?”

“Unless they could prove I was forced here, I’d go to Azkaban, right?”

“Yes,” Severus murmured.

“No, I don’t give a damn about going to Azkaban. I’d just run if my family found me.”

 

“Why don’t you care about anything?” Severus asked sullenly. “You would willingly accept being thrown into Azkaban? The Minister has ceased the use of Dementors but it is still deplorable.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Ron asked; there was no anger or even frustration in his voice. “Look… you… surely there must have been a time in your life, when you were working as a spy, when you’d lost the woman you loved that you didn’t give a damn whether you lived or died, Snape?”

 

When faced with that question, Severus suddenly found his mouth very dry again and he couldn’t make his tongue move to answer. He stopped trying, sensing that his silence would be enough for Ron to make the correct conclusion.

  
“Well, that’s me,” Ron said simply. “That’s just how I feel. But I haven’t got the balls to end it myself.”  
“So you’re slowly killing yourself with the drink and the sex, and hoping in the meantime someone will come along and do it for you?”

“I know it’s shitty and cowardly,” Ron managed to shrug in his arms. “But I don’t care about that either.”

 

“But you had _everything_ ahead of you,” Severus licked his lips nervously. “You had fought and won…”  
“For everyone else it was a victory.”

“But not for you.”

“No,” Ron sighed. “Not without the pair of them.”  
“If they could see you now they would be so angry,” from what Severus knew of Potter’s character, he would be burning with rage at the thought of the life his best friend was living.

“Well, they can’t… they have nothing, they don’t have life, they don’t have… look,” Severus heard his thick swallow and the shaky intake of breath. “I don’t want to talk about this… just know that whilst they’re gone, I might as well be. I was _always_ the most useless of the three of us. It was clearly some great fuck up of nature that I survived and they didn’t.”

 

“You are one step away from telling me you feel you deserve this god-awful life, aren’t you?” Severus asked him quietly.

 

Ron didn’t answer and it was Severus’ turn to take his conclusion from the silence.

 

“You really and truly don’t,” Severus murmured softly, letting his fingers stroke over the skinny hip they rested on, and he bent his head and kissed into flaming hair.

 

Why, he didn’t know. Severus was still somewhere back at the point where he should have been throwing his clothes on and scurrying out of the room. He wasn’t quite sure why he hadn’t done that yet, let alone why he was now holding his whore intimately and kissing him tenderly.

 

“Even if I wanted to go back, I can’t,” Ron looked up at him suddenly. “I have a contract here and I don’t know what’d happen if I broke it.”

“You’re contracted? How long for?”

“Another year before it’s reviewed.”  
“Will you stay?”

“Not sure.”

 

“Do you have any money?”

“Enough. Pays well, fucking…”

 

Severus shivered at his bluntness, and it suddenly struck him how very soft he had seemingly become since the war. The tragedies he had seen at the hands of Voldemort were more tragic than the sorry life laid out before his eyes, yet he was having the same reaction to them.

 

“Enough to stop this madness and look after yourself for a while?”

“Where would I go?” Ron shrugged. “I go abroad and I really do have to start over. I don’t speak any languages, unless I go to America and I… well. Too far away from home…”

“You count London as your home?”

“Always now,” Ron shifted slightly in the bed. “This city has hidden me for enough years for it to have earned its right as home.”

 

“Have they never come looking for you?” Severus didn’t have to clarify; Ron knew exactly whom he was talking about.

“If they have I’ve never seen them. But then… well. They really did probably think I went off and killed myself.”

“Why?”

“Because I left a note implying I would. And at the time I meant it.”

“What stopped you?”

“Fear.”

“That stopped me, too,” Severus whispered, committing the words to the air that he had never spoken aloud before.

 

“I got up in the middle of the night, packed up my things, wrote the note and left. I came here to the city, using glamours to hide my hair, and things went from there…”

“Why did you bother leaving them a note?” Severus asked. “I always thought that was rather… well. Even if I had had anybody to alert, I think I just would have slunk off and done it alone.”

“I had to,” Ron nuzzled into his neck; Severus wondered if he was enjoying the shared body warmth as much as he was. “Harry had left me everything and he was minted. I didn’t have a will for fuck’s sake, I had only found out two days before that it was all mine… I didn’t even know he had a will let alone what he’d put in it. So, I left them the note in my room declaring my intention that it should go to my parents. They’ve probably never used it, probably think it’s tainted. I took some out when I got here. That’s the last record of my name in five years.”

 

They fell to silence and Severus kissed his hair again.

“I don’t know why I told you all that,” Ron admitted, and Severus felt lashes sweep against the skin of his neck as the redhead closed his eyes.

“I don’t know why you did either,” he breathed.

 

Ron lifted himself up then, propping his head up on his hand to look down into Severus’ face.

“You’ve aged well,” he commented and Severus couldn’t help laughing.

“Are you serious?” Severus snorted. “I look awful.”

“Tired, maybe,” Ron brushed some hair back from his brow and Severus leant into the touch. “Maybe a little more haggard… but then after what we went through, who wouldn’t be?”

 

“True,” Severus murmured with raised eyebrows. “I suppose I feel older than I look.”

“I know all about that,” Ron looked at him with slightly curved up lips.

 

Severus wasn’t sure why he asked, but the next words out of his mouth seemed to surprise the redhead, too. “Kiss me?”

“I thought you said you were done?”

“I thought _you_ said this was about _my_ wants?” Severus raised an eyebrow singularly.

 

Ron smirked and bent his head to deliver the kiss as requested. It didn’t take much more cajoling for Severus to have tugged him to lie flush against his body and the kiss deepened.

 

“You seem to like kissing a lot,” Ron murmured against his lips.

“Never found somebody so willing to kiss me,” Severus ran his hands up and down the marked back.

“You didn’t with…?”

“Wouldn’t,” Severus gave a minute shrug.  
“A lot of them won’t… don’t see what the big deal is personally, worse body fluids you can share than saliva,” Ron made a face and then a point of thrusting his tongue extra deeply.

 

“Mm, quite agree,” Severus told him the next time he could.

 

He was abashed to feel that his cock was awakening again as it lay trapped between their bodies. If Ron felt it, he tactfully ignored it as he broke through the barrier of shame with his kisses.

 

“I want to…”

“What?” Ron froze and raised his eyes. “What do you want, Severus?”

 

Unable to speak the words aloud, Severus simply rolled him onto his back in the bed and kissed down his chest, heading for the mirrored growing erection he had felt pressing into his hip. It was unfamiliar ground –in four years he had never requested to be able to do anything such as he was about to do to his other whore, but he felt compelled, as he nestled between thin but strong thighs, to proceed.

 

He licked a trail up the shaft and thought he heard a hiss. He swirled his tongue around the head and thought he heard a moan. He sucked the tip in properly and gasped at the rough moan which definitely sounded through the sheet barrier. As he worked with his tongue, he idly wondered just how long it had been since someone had done this to Ron.

 

_Just because his clients won’t do it doesn’t mean he’s not able to find it elsewhere, fool._

Tasting saltiness on his lips, Severus repeated his actions again, listening intently to the moans from above. It was only when one of his hands cupped the hanging bollocks beneath his chin that he heard words.

  
“Please… yes… yes… _please_ …” They weren’t particularly lustful. They were pure blown depraved _begging_ for mercy in release. And he recognised them because he had made those same sounds himself.

 

He tugged at what he held and sucked noisily, before sliding more in. He didn’t know anything about what he was doing. But when he let out his own little hum of a moan, there was more begging, so he hummed strongly, not stopping when there was a louder cry.

 

“Stop I’m going to…ohhhhhhhhhh…” Ron’s hips rose to meet his face and Severus did not stop, as requested. He knew the redhead barely meant it. “Yes… fuck…”

 

Gripping fingers suddenly wove into his hair and held his head in place and then with another arch of his spine, Severus heard a gasp and the sounds of Ron holding his breath through the orgasm. His mouth was suddenly full of cock and ejaculate and he swallowed instinctively, releasing the member gently from his lips.

 

The fingers released and he pushed himself up with his hands, causing the sheets to tent around him as he looked down at the sated body on the mattress.

“You didn’t have to be so quiet,” he said softly.

 

Ron didn’t answer him. He lay frozen on the bed, his eyes rammed firmly shut.

 

“Are you… did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Ron shook his head. “It’s me… I… you know I said that when I need to come I think of something that works?”

“Yes.”  
“That was the first time I’ve never had to think of anything,” Ron rolled over and buried his face in the pillows.

 

Severus looked down at his scarred back. “And that upsets you…”

“I don’t like what I am,” the voice was torn even though it was muffled by the pillows. “But that… maybe that says I do.”

“Or maybe you just like who was doing it to you?” Severus frowned as he spoke, thinking how ridiculous his solution was. _He_ certainly didn’t believe it. Ron said nothing.

 

_He doesn’t believe it either._

 

“Would you like me to leave?” Severus asked, looking at his prone, tense form.

“No,” Ron lifted his head suddenly, before turning onto his side. “No, stay.”

 

He reached out and took Severus in his arms then, pulling him closer. He placed an almost chaste kiss on his cheek and forced him to rest his head on the same pillow.

 

“You were good at that,” Ron complimented him, though Severus found it odd.

 

_He makes a living off of whoring himself… he’s going to compliment what he knows._

“Thank you. I think.”

 

Ron laughed then and buried his face in Severus’ shoulder.

 

“What do you want to do now?”

“Well, I suggest that you find that bottle of wine again.”

“Okay.”

 

***

Severus woke up half buried by another body. It took him a second to remember where he was, why the canopy above him looked so foreign. He looked to the window and saw greyness creeping out of the dark, bringing another bleakly weathered day.

 

He looked down at the redhead draped over his body and woke up a little more, seeing the mussed flaming hair and pale skin. Ron’s features were slack in his slumber and Severus hardly dared move in case he woke him up.

 

_I need to get out of here…_

 

The thought swilled in his mind as a pornographic replay flashed past his eyes. It fell into two very distinct sections –before the wine and after the wine. The second half was undoubtedly blurrier. He remembered a story about Japanese rope bondage and spilling his wine, and another fuck… which probably explained the tired looking man on his chest.

 

Ron suddenly stirred and cracked his eyes open to the grey infiltrating the room.

“Morning,” he rasped, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, before he rolled onto his back, stretching his long frame out with a growling purr.

“Morning,” Severus whispered. Consciousness had brought with it the shame he had held at bay before.

 

“Go when you’re ready,” Ron murmured back, and pushed himself into a sitting position. “I should go and log my hours before she clears off for the day.”

 

Severus followed him up and swung his legs out of the bed, placing his palms of the edge of the mattress whilst he squeezed his eyes shut to try and blink through what he thought might be a hangover.

 

_It’s been fucking years since I had a hangover… Christ alive this boy is like a slow-acting poison._

Severus turned his head then and watched as Ron left the bed and stretched again with his back to him. He watched the way each of the muscles in his back contracted and released, the subtle sling of his hips as he relaxed to normal, the length of his flamey hair, the pert backside and beautifully sculpted thighs.

 

_Slow-acting poison I want again._

He saw the man stoop and pick up the fallen robe from the night before. He folded it in deft hands and sent it flying to the stand in the corner of the room. Severus had not noticed that before. Nor had he noticed the dresser to which Ron then walked, his hips slinging in the same enticing way.

 

_Circe everything about him screams whore…_

Severus watched as the man slowly dressed, pulling on non-descript jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. It made him very aware that he was naked and he stood up to rectify the fact, looking around at the haphazard pattern his own clothes made on the floorboards. He stepped into underwear and trousers at the same time, trying to locate the second sock.

 

A pale, creamy hand beat him to it and they both straightened at the same times, onyx meeting sapphire in a battle of gemstones. Ron shoved it into his hand and wandered to the window, looking down at the lane, still quiet due to the early hour.

 

“Will you get the night off?” Severus sat back down on the bed to sort out his boots.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ron said softly.

“Something tells me that’s not what you want…”

“I just sit in my flat alone,” Ron shrugged. “Normally drinking. Hardly healthy. But then nothing about me is.”

“You are worryingly thin,” Severus commented.  
“So are you,” Ron replied without looking round.

 

Severus couldn’t deny that. He had always been borderline skeletal. And it had never been for lack of eating. Sometimes he felt starved between his meals. Suddenly, he was fully dressed and reaching for his coat.

  
“So I just go downstairs and… well?”

“If she’s at the desk you’ll be… Look. You know your options.”  
“Would you mind if I returned?” Severus asked quietly.  


Ron turned to him then, fiddling with one of his cuffs. “I don’t think I’ve ever been able to answer more honestly,” he frowned slightly. “You’re in luck. One of my regulars… his wife just found out what he’s been doing. He said he’ll have to stop. So I have a hole in my schedule.”

 

Severus looked at him, willing the blush away from his face. He was not normally a man who blushed at all, yet the amount of times he had done so in the last day was in double figures.

 

“If you were willing, I would gladly fill that spot.”

 

Ron’s eyes flashed with something that Severus might have thought was happiness, if he’d not known the boy was working as a whore.

 

“Good. Then I need to give you something,” Ron crossed to the dresser. “This is totally stupid, but it’s how she knows I’ve given my permission.”

 

Severus frowned watching him pull out a small blank card and then spray it with something from a small atomiser. Ron wafted the card and then lifted it to his nose.

 

“She needs to know I’ve genuinely given my permission for you to be added, I suppose. Here.” He crossed the room silently and pressed the card into Severus hand.

 

He raised it to his overlarge nose and inhaled and knew his eyes must have widened at the scent.

 

Severus smelt something so utterly divine he couldn’t even think. Too feminine for a man as rough as the redhead in front of him, but so very right at the same time, the thick scents of combined rose absolute and vanilla curled into his nostrils. It felt every bit as comfortable as he had felt wrapped up in the bed with Ron. His eyes had closed at a point he couldn’t remember.

 

“God,” he muttered, and heard a soft laugh.

“I know.”

“What _is_ that?”

“Me,” Ron shrugged simply. “There are tests you can perform to find the scents most in tune with a soul.”

“Old magic,” Severus frowned. “And near enough dark.”  
“Well, there’s plenty about this place illegal, Severus, more than you know…”

 

Severus swallowed. “And I just give this to her?”

 

Ron nodded coolly. “She might have gone, I don’t know. If she has, come back, give her the card. I won’t hand out another. There’s no waiting list at the moment. And I have to approve any regulars so nobody will fill your spot.”

 

“It sounds so disgusting, talking that way,” Severus looked down at the floor.  
“It probably is, but you just have to remember the way you felt last night…”

 

Severus looked up when warm hands landed on his shoulders, and a kiss was bestowed upon him.

 

“I… thank you,” Severus forced himself to open his eyes.

 

His only reply was another kiss.

 

***

Severus had his wand in his hand. He was streets away from the brothel, somewhere in Muggle London. He had left the redhead to descend to an empty lobby. He left via the private apparition point at the back. The card weighed like a hot stone in his pocket.

 

His wand was in his hand and his breaths were heavy. His hangover was beginning to grab hold of his brain and he fought off the stabbing pains.

 

_I should do it._

 

He looked at the stick of wood in his hand, the wood that brought his magic into his fruition. What he was contemplating was utter betrayal.

 

_He is so lost, so young… he should never have submitted to such a wretched life._

 

His hand shook.

 

_If I alert them… I will never have my chance with him again._

Severus breathed through his mouth.

 

_They are good people. They have a right to know where their youngest son is._

 

Despite his thoughts, Severus lowered the wand, his dark eyes following the arc it made through the air.

 

_And he deserves a life where he is not aiming to satisfy others every single night._

He raised the wand again.

 

_But he was so beautiful… and he…_

 

Severus didn’t have to lift the card out of his pocket to recall the mouth-watering scent that lingered on its thickness.

 

_He kissed like it meant something, even if it didn’t._

Severus looked at the brick wall opposite. He knew his next action would make him a selfish, cruel man. Maybe that was what he was born to be. He slid the wand inside his coat, where it normally lived. He thought of the roses and vanilla.

 

_Selfish. Maybe it is my time to be that. I have served others my entire life...._

Determined that he would not let such a whirlwind of emotion pass him by, Severus strode with firm step from the alley, thinking only of when he could return next.


	2. Chapter 2

“You head on up,” the woman said, waving a hand at the stairs. “He should be finished by now.”

 

Severus shot her a wary look at the word ‘should’. He didn’t want to walk in and see the redhead wrapped around another man. It had taken him three glasses of strong whiskey to work up the courage to re-enter the brothel that evening. He was most definitely _not_ drunk, but the alcohol had successfully deadened the self-loathing and fear to the point he had been able to leave his home.

 

He tried to walk quietly as he made his way up the stairs, very aware of the fact that he was in the building earlier than he usually would have liked, but it was apparently just the way the redhead’s schedule worked. Severus tried not to think of the fact that he had had to pay extra just to reserve the privilege of being the last appointment of the night so that he might be welcome to stay again.

 

And staying was an objective high on Severus’ agenda. Even though he had to truly push himself to return, he couldn’t deny the way he had craved the expert touch of Ron’s hands and lips ever since he had arrived home from his first night. It had been two weeks since then.

 

_Two weeks of falling asleep to the fucking memories… been years since your right hand was your best friend._

He stepped onto the landing and walked as quietly as possible down to the end room, and he raised his fist to knock, but then he heard voices and he faltered.

 

“You’re not doing it right!” An overly elaborate voice chided, ringing with irritation.

 

Severus heard Ron’s answering growl and then his tight reply. “Look, fuck’s sake, how am I meant to remember this when you don’t see me for months at a time?”  
“Shut up and sort your legs out,” the voice snapped.

 

Severus blinked at the closed door, feeling his features arrange into a frown. He wasn’t quite sure what he was listening to. He heard shuffling on the floorboards and then a clunk, and desperate laughter.

 

“Look, you have to go soon; my next man will be here soon and remember last time when you got me a bollocking for staying too long?”

“But you’re just so delicious. I have fun with you in so many different ways.”

 

Bristling at the seductive purr in the words without really knowing why, Severus rapped his knuckles on the door, wanting to see just what was happening behind it.

 

“Come in!” Ron’s voice was still tight.

 

Severus turned the knob and entered the room, and his jaw fell a little at what he saw. A lithe dark-haired man with a flashy earring had Ron in what looked like a formal dance pose. Severus’ eyes lingered over Ron’s ruffled hair and the cigarette clamped firmly out of the corner of his mouth.

 

“Now you really _do_ have to go,” Ron sighed, breaking his hand free and reaching to take the stick out of his mouth.

“You get rid of me when you know you won’t see me for three months?”

“Did you pay for two sessions?” Ron blew some smoke out with raised eyebrows.

 

Severus’ temperature rose then as the other man’s eyes set upon him, sweeping up and down.  


“But who is this? Another dark haired man?” he turned to Ron, waving a hand in Severus’. “He is rather… dramatic, don’t you think? Screams Paso Doblé!”

 

Severus looked at Ron who in turn seemed caught between laughter and disbelief.

“Get out, and stop comparing my clients to your dances” he controlled his lips and flicked his ash into the air.

“I’m going,” the man sighed, reaching for his coat. “Good to see you again, my little firecracker.” He placed a kiss on Ron’s lips.

“Good to see you. Good luck, by the way.”

“I need no luck, king of the dance floor, remember?”

“Off your trolley,” Ron smirked.

 

The man turned to the door then and walked through where Severus had left it slightly ajar. He looked back once more first to Ron, and then flicked his gaze at Severus for a second, then back to Ron and barely concealing the movement of his hand, he made a squeezing motion with a wink and a filthy smile, and then left with a flounce and a light click of the door shutting.

 

“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t see you again,” Ron turned to him immediately.

 

Severus’ mouth wouldn’t work. He was surprised to find the redhead in such a lighthearted state. The past two weeks of him feeling sorry for the miserable life the young man led seemed almost wasted, because he certainly hadn’t looked it when Severus had walked through the door.

  
“He meant you had a nice arse, by the way,” Ron walked to the window and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray resting on the sill.

“What?” Severus asked jerkily.

“You have to ignore him, he’s a terrible flirt.”  
“Who is he?” Severus couldn’t fathom why on earth he was bothered.

“He’s… well. Showed me the ropes, I guess you could say. I met him when I first disappeared. He’s a dancer, Wizarding Salsa champion.”

“What the hell is Wizarding Salsa?” Severus frowned.  
“The same as muggle, but with added charms to make you more graceful… and when someone competent in wizarding goes for muggle competitions and jobs… well. He’s very successful. He mainly works on cruise ships, I hardly see him any more.”

 

“And when he comes here he pays you for a fuck and…” Severus airily waved his hand at the space near the door where he had seen them together.

“He always tells me he’s going to whip me up to standard so he can drag me away from here and this life,” Ron ran a hand through his hair. “I go along with it because I feel guilty that he has to pay to come and see me when we are, essentially, friends.”

 

“What’s a Paso… thing?” Severus asked him warily and his discomfort was not helped by Ron’s snort of laughter.

“It’s a dance… sort of… well. Arrogant. Think matadors, parading around… very _sexy_ dance, though…”

 

“And here was me thinking you lived a miserable life,” Severus reached for the buttons on his coat, and there was a knock on the door.

“Shit,” Ron breathed, and tugged his robe tightly around him, and Severus saw him clearly set his jaw as he walked to pull it open.

 

Severus moved back so he was out of sight but it didn’t make any difference because Ron stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door almost shut again. But the words were still clear.

  
“What the fuck are you playing at?” the voice was seething and Severus recognised that it belonged to the nameless woman in the foyer.

“I know, I’m sorry, I was trying to get rid of him.”  
“Like fuck, Weasley, you always piss around with him for far too long.”

“He’s paying for me like everyone does,” Severus heard defiance in Ron’s tone and winced slightly.

“Well I don’t give a fucking damn, you don’t give extra to your friends, how many times have I warned you now?”

“I’ve said I’m sorry,” Ron hissed flatly. “But us standing out here arguing isn’t getting my current client serviced any quicker, is it?”

 

Severus flinched, he couldn’t help it. The overwhelming desire to bolt slammed into his stomach and he realised that he probably would have done had his route not been blocked by the two arguing figures on the landing.

 

“You get in there and you fuck him _good,_ ” the woman hissed in reply and there was an anguished and almost pained gasp from the redhead, Severus wished he could have seen what provoked it. “He works for the Ministry. If this goes sour and you disappoint him, you could bring this all crashing down on our heads. He’s here for the sex at the minute but damn it, Weasley, I mean it…”

 

“Alright,” Ron snapped, and then Severus had to work hard to arrange his features into a neutral expression as the redhead stormed back into the room and closed the door with a loud bang behind him.

 

They didn’t look at one another as they listened to the proprietor’s heels clacking down the landing and then disappearing as she descended the stairs. Severus heard Ron let out a little gust of breath before a bigger one was sucked in, and then he spoke.

  
“Here, let me have your coat,” Ron’s hand was held out for it.

 

Severus froze, not moving, and raised his eyes to look at the pale face in front of him.

 

“Don’t mind her,” Ron gave a little shrug and moved forward, bringing his hands up to rest on Severus’ shoulders and push the coat from them, which he then removed completely and hung up on the stand in the corner. “She’s a right old witch at times.”

 

Ron gave Severus a small smile which he instantly saw through; he himself had thought enough times what an utter piece of work the woman would be to work for –and that was based on the minute amount of time spent together booking appointments and entering and leaving the brothel. He brought his hands in front of him and laced his fingers together, well aware it probably made him look like an extremely out of place priest, dressed all in black as he was.

 

“I’m happy that you came back,” Ron said, and Severus was nearly sure he was genuine. “It’s nice when there’s someone coming back for more that you don’t mind…”

 

Perhaps sensing Severus’ reluctance to speak or make the first move, Ron placed his palms on covered forearms and slid them up to rest over his collarbones. Severus loved the feel of their warmth seeping through his shirt. When the redhead moved closer he thought he caught a waft of the rose and vanilla mix which had been sending him mad since they had last met, and wondered how he had never smelt it before Ron had handed him the card.

 

“How are you?” the question was quiet, which was all it needed to be considering that Ron was only centimetres away from his lips.

“I’m…” Severus’ breath caught in his throat.

 

Ron’s eyes swept over his face before he gave a little sigh. “Still so nervous, Severus? I thought you’d be easier this time round. I can smell what’s on your breath.”

 

Severus flushed red then and closed his eyes, caught out in the courage he’d been forced to take from a glass of amber liquid.

 

“Your shame is nothing to be ashamed of,” Ron assured him, tightening his grip. “But you… after last time, I thought we left on a good note? I thought if you came back you would be a bit more confident?”

“I do not think that I will ever be that within the walls of this place,” Severus opened his eyes again and cast a hateful look at the room.

 

“Well,” Ron pulled away and Severus instantly regretted not being more receiving because he wanted the hands back. “I know something that might help.”

 

Severus watched as he crossed to the same cabinet as the wine had appeared from the first night he had stayed with the redhead. He saw the thin frame stoop and the little door open, and then Ron straightened, clutching a bottle and two small glasses. Severus could only raise an eyebrow in surprise when he saw that it was the exact same make and year of whiskey that he had been drinking before he’d forced himself out of the door.

 

“We drink the same whiskey,” he informed Ron, moving to stand next to him as he poured out the drinks.

“Then you have decent taste,” Ron screwed the cap back on and set the bottle down. He picked up his own glass and turned away to the bed, where he sank down and patted the mattress in a crystal clear invitation for Severus to join him.

 

Severus did but with deliberately slow movements, trying to hide just how eager he was to feel the hands he had dreamed of for two weeks on his body again. He took a mouthful as he sat down.

 

“So… I don’t want to get all business on you,” one of Ron’s fingers tapped against the edge of the glass, something Severus took for a nervous tick, and he wondered what was coming out of the talented mouth next. “But normally with my regulars I make up a kind of schedule or routine for their visits… I know what they like so it’s really easy for most of them with the obvious kinks.”

“Like Mr. Rope Bondage?” Severus gave him an amused glance.

“Yeah,” Ron winked in reply. “But I only do it if they want it… so… do you think you would?”

“I don’t have any kinks,” Severus dismissed instantly. “Nothing to make a routine of.”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ron gave him a look and Severus had the distinct feel that every tiny movement he had made during their last meeting had been analysed, maybe even logged. “You certainly liked the idea of me getting off, and making me moan… and you’re rather partial to hair, and touching it, and someone touching yours…”

 

“I suppose,” Severus tried to sound decidedly nonchalant about the discussion, even though his insides burned.

“I know you like discretion and quiet,” Ron murmured softly, and drained his glass. He put it on the bedside table.

 

He got up on his knees and moved behind Severus’ body, firmly massaging the joins between neck and shoulder. “You don’t seem to mind this, either.”

 

From the immediate pressure in his underwear, Severus was hard pushed to find the words with which to disagree. He even moaned when a circling thumb satisfied the nape of his neck.

 

“We can just see where it takes us,” Ron offered. “But if you ever want more than that you have to tell me, yes?”

 

Severus swallowed another mouthful, appreciating the slow burn it made down his gullet, before he answered in a very quiet voice, “I am not the best at conveying my needs.”

“I remember,” Ron kissed his neck gently, hands still massaging away in divine movements. “Finish that up and we’ll get started.”

 

Severus couldn’t help his shudder at the frank words and Ron’s fingers stilled, sensing his discomfort.

 

“Severus, you came back,” Ron reminded him. “You need to stop this indecision. You’ve been coming here for four years… were you like this on every visit?”

 

Giving a curt nod, Severus got to his feet and turned round to face Ron, whose robe had parted slightly where he knelt, leaving his chest and stomach on display. Shaking his head slightly so he was not distracted by the beautiful sight, Severus swallowed. “I did come back, yes. But I… I will not detail my inner mind to you, if I am nervous then surely with the extortionate amount I am paying you, you can get over it and fuck me anyway.”

 

Severus worked very hard not to attach ‘like the good little whore you are’ to the end of his sentence. He blinked a few more times and realised that the last whiskey must have finally pushed him a few more steps towards inebriated.

 

Ron looked up at him with eyes wide at the rebuke and Severus knew he had been sharp.

“Message received loud and clear,” Ron told him, then swivelled his hips to let his legs swing forward.

 

Severus stood and watched as one of Ron’s feet brushed against his ankle and proceeded to streak up his inner leg so that the toes eventually nudged at his barely hidden erection. He felt a burning trail develop everywhere that the teasing foot had touched him and he felt wetness in his underwear.

 

_Fucking desperate enough that his foot can provoke you… Circe._

“Severus, this is going to be a lot easier on both of us if you just talk to me,” Ron said suddenly, letting his foot drop with a thud so his heel kicked back into the base of the bed, Severus noticed his slight wince. “I’m not asking to hear your deepest and darkest,” Ron assured him. “But communication, something’s got to give if you understand me?”

 

“Last time we communicated just fine,” Severus muttered obtusely.  
“After the sex,” Ron amended. “Is that it? Do you just want me to throw you on the bed and do it, break the ice?”

 

Severus could see the calculations in the redhead’s mind and he sighed, closed his eyes and reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose in the hope of finding some calm. He heard the bed creak slightly, and then after the swish of what must have been Ron’s wand, he found his clothes and shoes melted away, leaving him in his underwear and socks. His eyes flew open in anger but the redhead was not on the bed where he had last been seen. Severus barely had time to blink and search him out before he felt something silky fall over his eyes and tie at the back of his head.

 

Even though he was angry at the sudden shift into almost-nudity, Severus couldn’t deny that having his sight removed made his cock strain even more. He had never been blindfolded before, at least during sex, and the thought of having the power of sight removed was startlingly appealing.

 

_Even for a man who is obsessed with being in control of every aspect of his life…_

 

He felt hot hands pushing against his spine and he took a tentative step.

  
“Trust me,” equally hot breath hissed into his ear.

 

Severus did, but the thought of voicing that aloud made him shudder. The hands ran smooth paths up and down the immediate outline of his spine and came to a rest at the base. He took another step forward when prompted, and another, until Ron grabbed his hips to still him. And then a large hand was placed in the centre of his back and bent him over.

 

Severus held onto his breath as his forehead came into contact with the bedsheets and realised that, if the redhead had removed his underwear, his backside would have been horribly bared to the room. And it was to there that the hand moved next, slowly moving to cup one cheek and then the other, squeezing lightly through the dark material.

 

Without warning they too were gone and he remained in just his socks, which annoyed him beyond reason. His feet slipped in his widened stance.

 

All his thoughts were torn away from his feet, though, as he felt the hot hands prise apart his buttocks and felt the delicate tingle of hygiene spells fluttering across his skin, and then inside him. He hissed and pressed his face further into the sheets, glad that he had somewhere to hide.

“Just remember, Severus, tell me to stop and I will.” Ron’s voice was low and rumbling and Severus became very aware of the fact that his cock was thick and pressing into his stomach as he was bent over.

 

Thought suddenly flew far, far away as he felt a wetness trace over his entrance and the bedsheets caught his moan.

 

_Sweet Merlin… oh… this will be the undoing of me…_

 

Well aware that his dramatic thoughts were aided by the four large measures of spirit he’d consumed, Severus tried to hold onto his praise and adoration but it was hard when the tongue assaulting him worked with such finesse. Currently it lapped against his hole like it resembled pleasant leftovers on a spoon.

 

“Oh, gods, yes!” he hissed through gritted teeth as the tongue suddenly breached through the first ring of muscle to enter him. “Fuck…”

 

In his pleasure he thrust back, only moaning more when the tongue moved deeper. He could feel it, the wetness tickling against his inner walls and Ron’s nasal breath ripping up his crack from its buried position. He reached for his erection and was happy when Ron let him continue to stroke it.

 

“Ohhhh more… oohhh…” he screwed up his face in shame when his balls landed neatly in the palm of Ron’s hand and were massaged as the tongue inside of him rolled up and with amazing stability slid back and forth, never quite leaving his passage.

 

It was only when his tongue hit dry cotton that Severus realised he was biting against the sheets to stop himself from full on yelling what he felt, which was utterly but beautifully violated. He bit harder when the tongue suddenly shifted much deeper and lips sealed around his entrance, giving the impression that he was receiving a French kiss at the wrong end.

 

As wrong as he might have thought it was, his balls drew up to his body as they were palmed and he roughly tugged on his cock before his body tensed. He was vaguely aware of the fact he’d pushed Ron out but his main focus was on the hot come streaming out of his dick, coating his hand and some splattering the bed, as the blindfold was tugged off.  The hard throbs coursing through his crotch were taking his breath away. The room both sounded and looked blurry as he raised his head, panting with hoarse breath, wondering how on earth he’d reached climax so quickly.

 

Soft hands touched his sides and pulled him upright. His dazed eyes fell south and took in his wilting erection and the mess he’d made. It vanished before his eyes with a murmured spell from the redhead behind him and he was grateful. He had never realised he’d had a problem with looking at his expulsion until that moment.

 

_How can somebody so young teach me so many lessons in what probably hasn’t even been twenty five fucking minutes?_

Ron released him and he did the first thing which popped into his head, which was to fall face down on the bed, letting his legs trail behind him. His feet were suddenly hot and itching and he ungracefully fought to toe his socks off, moaning his frustration, and was grateful once more when fingers hooked by his ankles and pulled them off. He flexed his toes in the cool air and groaned.

 

“I left them on for a reason, you know,” Ron said softly, and climbed onto the bed next to him, a hand smoothing up the plane of his back and down again.

 

Severus grunted his questioning interest, unable to prise his face out of the mattress due to the sated feeling commanding his muscles.

 

“I slowed down the stripping process,” Ron’s breath tickled his ear. “So it wasn’t as much of a threat. You weren’t immediately exposed and you didn’t have to reveal yourself. And you were still with one article of clothing when you came, which you then practically begged me to take off… so your nudity was something you embraced.”

 

_Clever fucking little shit._

 

Severus let the tops of his feet trail on the floorboards and revelled in their coolness.

 

“I don’t think… well. I didn’t particularly have a problem with the way you stripped me off last time, either,” Severus murmured, hoping his words could be deciphered as he did not want to repeat them.

“And yet you were more nervous this time, I could feel it radiating off you. The whiskey told me all I needed to know anyway…”

“Because I was… I have thought of that night every night for the past two weeks… your hands, your mouth… everything… and I am not a person to give way to fantasy, Weasley, not often.”

 

Severus heard a light chuckle and then felt a kiss pressed into his hair.

 

“Severus, your nerves aren’t a challenge to me, only you. I can try everything I know to help you get over them, but they won’t go away unless you can bottle the shame you feel by coming here…”

“Which is something I don’t feel able to do,” Severus shrugged simply, though somehow, raising his face from the mattress was not the titanic battle he had assumed it would be. He turned his head to the side and his dark eyes sought out Ron’s face. “But I have never been…”

“Rimmed?” Ron supplied with brutal frankness.  
“No,” Severus knew his face coloured. “Never before… nor have I managed to spill that easily since I was your age, I don’t think…”

“Well then I’m doing something right,” Ron winked, and fell back to lounge on his elbows.

 

Severus noticed at some point his robe had disappeared and the redhead was every bit as naked as he was, and there was a definite arousal jutting up from auburn curls. Ron caught him looking at it and Severus arched an eyebrow in question.

 

“It’s the sounds you make,” Ron looked thoughtfully down at his own crotch. “For some reason they get me going. Unusual for me, I have to say.”

 

Severus’ eyes raked his form and the tiredness he had begun to feel was instantly burnt away by something that he might have recognised as lust in his youth. He forced himself to move, pushing his way onto his hands and knees, crawling over so he hovered above the prone redhead, looking down at the aerial view of his body. Ron said nothing but unlocked his elbows and lowered his head onto the bed. Severus saw sapphire eyes disappear behind eyelids and smiled slightly. Suddenly he couldn’t remember why he had felt the need to take courage from alcohol.

 

As much as he hated to think of his former student living as he did, Severus couldn’t deny that the young man was skilled at it. His eyes were closed so that Severus could look at his form without feeling scrutinised, which was, of course, exactly what he needed to feel comfortable doing it.

 

He swung one leg over the thin body and settled himself over the tops of Ron’s thighs, lowering his torso down. He caught full lips with his own and kissed gently. Severus tasted the remnants of whiskey and the cigarette on the silky skin and revelled in it, swiping his tongue gently. Ron opened his mouth in response and only then did Severus feel the hands on his back again, his skin tingling everywhere it was touched.

 

They were thoroughly tonguing one another with ragged breaths when Ron seemed to pick something up before Severus and groaned, his eyes flying open. Severus then heard why -an urgent knocking on the door.

 

“I am so sorry,” Ron looked up at him nervously, and Severus had the distinct impression that the redhead didn’t want to open the door for fear of what was on the other side.

 

He rolled off him, landing on his back and Ron sprang off the bed to the door, looking over his shoulder to see when Severus had covered himself, which he did by sliding into the bed and pulling the sheets up.

 

He held his breath so that he might hear the conversation a little better. He heard a male voice, low, almost desperate. Ron’s voice was louder due to his closer proximity, but it could only have been a whisper.

“Are you trying to get me fucking killed?”

 

Severus only heard one word, which was ‘please’, and then he saw Ron walk to a door he hadn’t noticed off the side of the room and disappear, before flying back across the room and thrusting something into the hallway.

 

There was a distinct gulp, uttered thanks and then Ron closed the door again, returning to the bathroom before finally appearing by the side of the bed again.

“Sorry,” he murmured once more and slid back into it, straight up to Severus’ side, his arms going around his torso.  
“What was that?” Severus had to ask, his curiosity was burning away at him.

 

He had always been so anxious about being in the brothel that he had never really taken the time to see if he could gain a better understanding of how it worked, of how those within it operated. But that evening he had learnt about the nature of the woman that ran it, and for the first time he had been interrupted.

 

“Nothing,” Ron said, almost forcefully, and kissed Severus’ lips again.

“Is this an issue of trust?” Severus asked shrewdly. “What did you give him?”

 

His mind was running through all sorts of potions that could have been the liquid he’d caught sight of. Working as they did, it could have been any number of things.

 

Ron had coloured slightly and his voice was low when he spoke. “We get a certain number of… potions with which to take care of ourselves a month. If we run out, tough luck. One of the newer guys is having some trouble.”

“So basically you are telling me that if you get a sadist in the first week of the month and you use everything, you are left without for the rest of the month?”

 

All the horror rushed back to him, but Severus had to wonder why on earth he was surprised. His assumptions on the owner had been right, and it wasn’t out of character, it seemed, for the men that worked for her to be so badly treated.

 

Either way, Ron didn’t answer him, but looked at a point beyond his shoulder determinedly.

“And so you’re saying that he had run out, and he came to you?”

“Yeah,” was the mumbled reply, so quiet that Severus could tell the redhead really shouldn’t have been telling him any of it.

“Why would he come to you?” Severus grazed his fingertips along the defined collarbone in front of him.

 

Ron’s throat bobbed with his swallow and he opened his mouth and closed it again, his eyes falling shut as colour flooded his cheeks and reddened the tips of his ears.

 

 _Just like it used to in the classroom…_ Severus looked at the flaming ears poking into scarcely redder hair and was thrown back into the memory of long past Potions lessons and a years worth of Defence Against the Dark Arts, seeing Ron flush with anger at an insult on any of his friends.

 

“They come to you because they know you never use your own allowance,” Severus sighed. “That’s the truth, isn’t it? Tell me?”

 

Ron’s eyes were open again then, shining with defiance. “And what if it is?”

“Just tell me,” Severus repeated coolly.

“Fine, you want the truth, don’t blame me if you can’t handle it –no, I never use the potions allotted to me and they know that, so they come to me when they run out, which is against the rules.”

“Why?” Severus couldn’t understand the logic behind denying somebody in pain relief when surely their pain would only hinder their performance and cause a payment reduction to the business as a whole.

“Call it a lesson in control,” Ron shrugged. “You get hurt, that’s your own fault… everyone else here has protection for major things and I… I’m the only one who’ll do the riskier stuff. But that doesn’t mean a man with a cock the size of a beater’s bat ramming into you isn’t going to hurt, especially if you’re new to this…”

 

Severus licked his lips nervously and looked into the still coloured face. “And what would happen if it were found out that you were supplying your, ah, colleagues with extra pain relief?”

“I try not to think about that,” Ron’s eyes clouded then and he pulled away, rolling onto his back.

“Does she…” he faltered and was annoyed at his mincing words. “I’m guessing there’s hell to pay when you step out of line, like earlier, outside the door? You sounded in pain?”

 

“You’re too astute for your own good, Severus,” Ron said warmly, his eyes firmly trained up on the canopy above them. “And to be honest, it’s not going to help you get rid of the feelings you have attached to coming here. So give them up. Now.”

 

The words lashed against Severus’ skin like a whip and he instinctively pulled back at the harshness, sitting up in the bed and feeling like an imbecile, mainly because a twenty-three-year-old had just snapped at him.

 

_But there’s the Ron Weasley you remember from school. I wonder why he’s so much closer to the surface tonight than the last time?_

He was tempted to get out of the bed and get dressed and leave. But then Severus looked down at the form next to him and realised what implications it might bring for Ron, whom despite the risk, it seemed, was willing to help those around him.

 

_Or he just uses it as an excuse to further deny himself what he deserves._

Severus sighed then, and realised that Ron was completely right. The knowledge he had gained had done nothing to ease his conscience over where he was or what he was doing.

 

“Go, if you want to,” Ron’s voice was a whisper. “I can handle her.”

“And if you think I’m cowardly enough to give you cause to have to, then you aren’t as gifted at analysing characters as you believe,” Severus looked down his nose at him, narrowing his eyes. “Now, are you going to tell me what the potion was?”

“Just pain relief,” Ron shrugged slightly. “The usual bog standard one you breathed down my neck making at school.”

 

Severus ignored what he knew was an indirect slight on his teaching skills and promptly got out of the bed before bending and pulling his wand out of his fallen trousers.

  
“What are you doing?” Ron’s voice was terse as Severus pushed open the door to the bathroom. “Severus, please, I know you’re just trying to help but seriously-”

 

Severus turned to him and glared. “Look, even if you aren’t using these, somebody else who _isn’t_ mentally challenged might as well. But there is no need for you get thrashed for being a decent person.”

 

He turned then and pointed his wand at the empty bottle, which began to fill. When it was brimming with the purple liquid, he cast a preserving spell and then charmed the bottle to re-fill. Severus sensed wide blue eyes watching his actions.

 

“How did you… what kind of re-filling charm was that?”

“Why?” Severus turned the wand over in his fingers, suddenly aware of the fact he was totally naked, his feet cold on the tiles of the minuscule bathroom’s floor.

 

His eyes flitted over the starkness of the room -all white, clean, toilet, sink, impossibly tiny shower which Ron, towering over six foot, must have had to stoop to fit in.

 

“Because she charms them so we _can’t_ do that –don’t you think that one of us, at some point, might have tried it? Even worse, when someone does, the damn thing shatters and you lose what’s in it.”

“Well let’s just say that she apparently hasn’t factored ex-dark wizard benefactors into her plans,” Severus arched an eyebrow and dared Ron to complain.

 

The redhead faltered, his tongue flicking out to moisten dry lips. “Why?”

 

The question hovered in the air and Severus frowned, wondering why Ron would question his willingness to help. “What on earth do you mean, why?”

“Why are you trying to help?” Ron’s face was a tumult of emotion. “You don’t have to do this, Severus, you come here, pay through the nose for your fuck, and leave. That’s it; it’s all it has to be.”

“I am well aware of that,” Severus drew himself up to his full height. “But if you think I am cruel enough to sit back and watch that kind of depravity, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Well surely you sat back and saw a fair share of it during the war,” Ron spat, before turning and disappearing back into the bedroom.

 

Severus remained rooted where he stood, the words bolting his feet to the tiles. He saw Ron re-appear by the window, clothed in his usual thin robe, and heard the spark of a match whilst the red hair quivered when the man bowed his head to light the cigarette Severus knew was clamped firmly in between his lips.

 

He looked at the wand in his hand, and then at the bottle resting on the side of the tiny sink. His eyes then landed on the range of bottles on the shelf next to the shower, which seemed a huge supply of shower gels and body care. Everything about the bathroom made him want to walk out the door and never return, the place where bottles which would transform the men into more appealing subjects took precedence over those which would help them deal with the agony caused by their clients. His stomach gave a definite flip and he sucked in some air, hoping it would still his nerves. The whiskey was working against him, he realised, and he pushed his fingertips into his eyes to try and alleviate the pressure he felt there.

 

_Strange, he knows that I work for the Ministry, he has been warned personally by his employer to keep me on side and yet he tries to offend me and rejects my help…_

 

That thought in his mind Severus stepped back onto the floorboards, now warm in comparison to the tiles, and made his way around the bed, letting one hand trail up to catch hold of a bedpost.

 

“You have no right to bring that up now. You know everything, you know what I was doing and why. If you had any idea of the times I tried and failed to save people…”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Ron asked suddenly, his head snapping to the side and sapphire eyes locking onto Severus’ face. “Is that what you think this is, _saving_ me? Because I thought I made myself perfectly clear last time, Severus, about where I stood on the whole safety issue. I don’t give a damn, Severus.”

“But you obviously do about your colleagues, or why would you have shared your stock even when you _know_ what it means if you are caught?”

 

Severus threw that in wondering if he had made the right assumptions on what _would_ happen. The nervous shift of Ron’s shoulders and the tensing of his back had him almost convinced.

  
“Those marks on your back,” Severus said quietly. “Not a client, were they?”

“Severus, if you know what’s good for you, shut up,” Ron warned, flicking his ash away into mid-air, where it melted.

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Then I can safely say we’re done,” Ron turned and folded his arms over his chest, reminding Severus firmly of the first night he had been there, when Ron had been hell bent on gaining his promised discretion.

“Why?” Severus gestured with his other hand.

 

That was when he realised he really _was_ a little drunk, it was never a good sign when he started gesticulated with his hands when talking. Memories flashed before his eyes of being in Albus’ office, having had one too many glasses of the proffered wine, and getting passionate in his speech and Albus laughing at him.

 

“This is a two way street,” Ron narrowed his eyes. “I guard any shred of evidence that you’ve been here with my life, you do the same for me. I’ve barely asked any questions about your personal life, because it isn’t my business to know, Severus. I’m your whore, your rentboy, what ever the hell you want to call me. _Lover_ , even, if you don’t want to be honest to yourself!” He exclaimed wildly. “But I haven’t asked those questions, and you should show me the same respect by staying out of my life, my work problems,” he waved the hand free of the cigarette at the room.

 

Severus looked at him then, at the shadows beneath his eyes, the long red hair and glittering blue eyes. Even in his anger the man was beautiful.

 

“Why do you find it so hard to accept that I might not feel comfortable watching you purposefully punish yourself when you have no cause to do so?” Severus asked him, keeping his voice level.

“I do have cause,” Ron shrugged simply. “But it’s not my problem if you don’t agree with it.”  
“I don’t,” Severus admonished flatly. “Absolutely not. You think surviving was some lucky fate that you deserve to be punished for!” He was aware of his hands lifting and demonstrating with his words. “Maybe if you’d listen you’d realise that surviving was enough punishment alone.”

 

Severus’ breath had quickened during his rant and he saw that Ron looked at him a little oddly.

 

“You were never this sexy at school. But then I suppose you were never stark bollock naked at school, either,” Ron’s eyes raked up and down his form.

 

Severus was too angry with his disregard for life to care.

 

“You know,” Ron continued, sauntering closer, the cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers in a way which made him completely devil-may-care and Severus suddenly had to fight hard not to launch himself at the younger man, “I really can’t understand why you’re not in a relationship.”

 

The words were soft, and Severus recognised that they were not a pitted challenge, but he couldn’t help but be thrown off guard by them. The cigarette was lifted and placed between full lips and then hands were on his bare shoulders.

 

“You are probably a hell of a lot more attractive than you think you are, Snape.”

 

Some of the ash broke off when the stick moved with Ron’s speech, but it melted before it could land on Severus’ skin.

 

“Long dark hair, eyes deeper than an ocean, nice if thin body… really, why aren’t you with someone?”

“It’s none of your business,” Severus’ pride kicked in and he inwardly groaned as Ron stepped back, a tiny smug smile creeping onto his lips.

  
“You don’t talk about your personal life, and I won’t talk about mine,” he grabbed the cigarette and jabbed it in Severus’ direction. “I think that’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

 

“And what if I were to leave right now, hmm?” Severus burst forth again. “If I were to walk down the stairs, say I was utterly disgusted with the tramp in the room on the top floor and that I was taking my business elsewhere, then what would you do?”

“Ride it out, like always. You wouldn’t be the first,” Ron shrugged, and moved to stub out his cigarette. “Two years, three walk outs.”

 

“Why?” Severus suddenly frowned, knowing he was blowing his cover of the bluff but not really caring. “Who on earth would be stupid enough as to pass you up?”

“You old flatterer,” Ron laughed suddenly, and turned back to the bed, sitting down upon it. “Well, you know me now… describe me,” blue eyes looked up at him. “Describe the qualities in me which you maybe like or find surprising, but you think make me a good little whore.”

 

Severus bristled at the frank description but licked his tongue around the edge of his teeth, contemplating. “Honest, warm, easy talker, attractive, seductive…” those words came to the forefront easily. “But then you are also a superb physical analyst, you understand the psychology better than I ever expected someone working in your profession would ever bother to do…”

“Well, yes. You, for whatever reason, like me to be that way. But the thing is, when they don’t, I won’t change, Severus.”  


“But you said that you’d be whatever they wanted you to be?” Severus recalled Ron’s words from two weeks before.  
“Figuratively,” he shrugged. “I’ll be what they want –salsa dancer, bondage participant, hell, I’ll even do breathplay if that’s what they fucking want, Severus, but my actual personality, I refuse to change.”

 

“So that… all the touches, the kissing… that’s actually you?” Severus didn’t know why he felt discomforted by that.

“Yes, it’s me,” Ron answered him honestly. “And I could tell when you were here last time; you were telling yourself that it couldn’t possibly be. I was being paid to fuck you and nothing more, so my touches were empty.”

“So they mean the same for everyone, doesn’t that rather diminish their meaning?” Severus let himself sink down onto the bed next to him.

“I don’t think so, it’s still different with every man that walks through the door, Severus,” Ron shrugged. “Those kinks obviously have to shape what I do. But with you… there weren’t any kinks, so I wasn’t wondering how tight the rope was going to be that night, or if I was going to be half-strangled… no. That night was very real and me, I guess. And I suppose it would help your confidence to know I’ve been _really_ fucking hard pushed to forget it.”

 

Severus blushed a little then, even though he was trying his utmost not to. “You’re right. That does help.”

 

Ron gave him a little grin, Severus let his hand freely go as it was tugged up to the soft lips and kissed, first on the back, then on the palm and then a little more wetly on the wrist.

 

“The spell I used,” Severus cleared his throat. “Untraceable. Potion is coming from my private stock. Nobody ever need know.”

“Your private stocks?” Ron raised an eyebrow, not releasing the wrist and it tingled as he spoke with his lips so close to the skin.

“You think after all those years I would just give up brewing?” Severus asked.  
“Well, we all knew it wasn’t what you really wanted to teach.”  
“Do you think spending the whole of my life trapped in a castle with annoying little shits, dealing with their trivial every day traumas and maladies was what I _really_ wanted to do with my life, Weasley?!”

 

Ron swallowed then and the smile was back on his face. “When you put it like that, guess not.”

 

“The potion will always re-fill,” Severus said calmly. “And if there is anything else you have that I can charm and help with, tell me.”

“You any good at brewing the one that staves off premature ejaculation?”

“What time period?”

“Half an hour,” Ron was looking at him with gratitude.

“For… you, or your clients?”

“Clients,” Ron said, without batting an eyelid. “… I know it’s dirty and underhand, but seriously… if they wait longer, it’ll be better, and if they stay longer…” he made a rolling motion with his hand.  
“They know they’re drinking it?”

“Slip it into a drink.”

 

“That is so very illegal,” Severus sighed. “And…” his eyes suddenly swivelled to the whiskey bottle, looking at it in horror.

“I wouldn’t dream of drugging you, Severus,” Ron assured him. “If only because I know you’ll recognise the taste.”

 

“Impudent brat,” Severus muttered. “I don’t need it.”

“Really, because you seemed pretty excited before…”

 

“Well _really,_ you do that to a man for the first time; he’s bound get a little over-animated!”

“That’s what you call it?” Ron snorted, getting to his feet and dropping Severus’ wrist.

 

Severus didn’t know what made him speak next, but the words were already half out before he knew his mouth had opened. “I’m not in a relationship because I appear to be somewhat socially inept. At least romantically, if nothing else.”

 

Ron didn’t comment as he stooped and picked something up from the floor, which Severus noticed must have been his bag. His grip was too loose and it tipped, sending the contents out onto the floor.

 

“And you say _you’re_ socially inept, at least you’re not a fucking klutz with it,” Ron muttered, crouching down. Severus winced at the way his knees cracked.

 

He bent down and picked up an object by his feet, which was a smallish book that had landed open and page up. On closer inspection he saw that it was a notebook, with messy scrawls and different coloured inks. Severus’ eyes latched onto a comment which said ‘no dirty talk –makes him laugh’ and suddenly everything on the page, including the initials at the top, made sense.

 

“What’s this?” he marshalled his face into a sombre countenance, even though he was laughing somewhat inside that Ron kept notes on his clients, just as he had suspected.

 

The redhead’s eyes widened with comical shock as he saw the book which Severus had raised airily in his hand, his thumb keeping the spot of the page he’d read.

 

“Give me that back,” he said immediately, thrusting his hand forward. Severus noted that it trembled slightly.

“See, the thing is, Weasley,” Severus drawled, lounging back on the bed and raising the book to his eyes. “I’m rather interested to see the sort of men you deal with.”

“Severus, please, if anyone found out that I even have that I’d be in serious shit, now give it back.”

“Well, I presume you’ve written about me in this, I think I at least deserve to see that,” Severus flicked to the last written pages and found himself reading about somebody else.

 

His eyes caught the words ‘poss. abusive’ and blinked, eyes skimming over the written words, stomach turning when he didn’t like what he found. Not wanting to lose the slightly playful atmosphere which had bounced up around them, Severus quickly moved back until he found what he was looking for, his own initials at the top of what turned out to be a whole three pages.

 

“Three pages?” he looked over the top of the book at Ron with a quirked eyebrow. “I daresay this’ll prove more fascinating reading than you ever churned out as Potions homework.”

“Severus…” the plea was quiet.

 

Severus would have given the book back at the solemnity in the tone, but then his eyes caught the acronym ‘PHD’ and he frowned. “Alright, I know I am probably rather unversed in the language of the youth of today, but can you explain PHD to me please? Isn’t that a muggle academic achievement?”

 

He looked at Ron again and was surprised to actually find him blushing and looking at the floor in his embarrassment. “You’re… look, give me the book back before I take it from you.”

“I’ll give it back if you explain what that means,” Severus was seriously rankled by the fact he didn’t understand what the description meant.

“It’ll only go to your head,” Ron warned him. “And you were never meant to see that anyway.”

 

Severus sat up again and looked at him expectantly, reminiscent, he was sure, of his days as Hogwarts’ Potions Master.

 

“Fine,” the redhead burst out angrily. “It stands for Pretty Huge Dick, if you _really_ want to know, Snape.”

 

Stunned, Severus’ grip on the book fell slack and he provided no resistance when Ron reached forward and snatched it out of his fingers. He closed it with a very precise snap and rammed it into the bag now resting on the table. Severus watched as he picked up the item he had been originally looking for, which turned out to be a large bar of chocolate. He recognised the definite crack of the slab when Ron bent it between his hands.

 

He sat in silence as he heard another gentler snap as the redhead bit into it. Severus observed that his jaw made a tiny clicking noise with every chew of the chocolate. It was only the smallest of things, but he suddenly felt far too intimate with the man. The interrupting knock on the door seemed to have blown the sensual ambience which had filled the room prior to it into nothing. Severus realised with a jolt it was that atmosphere that made it feel normal.

 

“Apologies, I should have given it back when you first asked,” Severus looked down at his thighs.  
“No big deal,” Ron shrugged, but didn’t turn back from the window.

“It clearly is,” Severus got to his feet and without warning wrapped his arms around the redhead from behind, closing his eyes to the feel of the warm body. “I don’t like the look of your newest,” he whispered delicately in Ron’s ear.

“Neither did I,” Ron admitted, Severus hated the shaky note in his tone.

“Is he a regular?”

“No,” the red hair shook with his answer, and relief was very obviously the prevalent emotion attached to it.

“Good,” Severus let his hand creep between the ends of the robe and settled it across Ron’s flat stomach. “I know you don’t understand why I care, but I do…”

 

Ron swallowed the mouthful of chocolate he had and turned around in Severus’ arms, licking the remnants from his back teeth. “Would you like to read the rest of it? Just your pages, though.”

“Why do you keep it if it could land you in trouble?”

“Because I’m not a fucking genius,” Ron laughed, reaching one arm out and pulling the book back into view. “I have to have some sort of record or I’d go nuts.”

“That many of us, eh?” Severus murmured, before stealing a kiss from his lips.

“Sort of,” Ron shrugged. “Come on, this might actually be good for you to read what I wrote.”

 

He brushed past and caught Severus’ hand, pulling him back to the bed. Severus nervously slid in next to him, rather worried what the book might actually contain beyond the first complimentary phrase.

 

“You seemed surprised,” Ron flicked to the back and kept his eyes on the book as he found the right page. “About the PHD comment.”

“I have never considered it to be,” Severus admitted.  
“Well, I’ve seen enough to be an authority on the matter, and I rule PHD,” Ron winked at him, and then thrust the book over.

 

Severus took it and placed it in his lap.  “Your handwriting is atrocious,” he muttered for something to say and Ron laughed.

“Not much changes,” he leant closer, so that their shoulders touched. “Hermione used to say that to me all the time. When she was finishing off all your poxy essays, that is.”

 

“They were there for your own good,” Severus scowled down at the pages, even though so far they had not offended him until he alighted on one word which made him bristle. “What does that mean –‘easy’? I assure you I am not!”

“Look at it in context,” Ron tutted, pointing his finger to the phrase above. “Moans readable –easy.”

“And what does that mean in the name of Merlin’s good creation?”

“That I can tell what you feel, how much you like something, by the noise you’re making.”

“I wasn’t aware I was particularly vocal.”  
“You’re kidding, right?” Ron laughed, and did so again when Severus looked at him in surprise. “Whatever you are outside of the bedroom, Severus, reserved, quiet… you certainly _aren’t_ quiet in the middle of an orgasm.”

 

Blushing furiously once more, Severus moved on, wondering why on earth the redhead had the ability to make a man such as himself flush almost on command.

 

 _He must be making that up, I certainly am not loud! Ooh, though…_ He saw the words ‘fantastic kisser’ circled twice. He hid his smile.

His eyes followed a sentence to the next page and he nearly choked when he read _‘needs lessons in losing control and letting go and coming when he fucking feels like it’._

 

“You do,” Ron must have sensed his indignation. “You told me to stop all those times when you probably could have come from all of them, if you’d let yourself. You have a very pre-conceived idea of what we should be doing.”

“And my information is wrong?” Severus questioned, eyes flicking to the next page with the word ideas underlined.

“I’d say so; you certainly seemed to enjoy what I had planned a hell of a lot more than what you had.”

 

But Severus was no longer listening; his dark eyes were transfixed on the words causing his mind to form a million and one dirty images. The ideas that Ron had listed to try and get him to loosen up were making his mouth-water and his cock stir. It was only covered by the thin sheet and he knew Ron would notice it the second it started to tent the material. But caught up in a vision of being rendered immobile and having the redhead eat chocolate off his extremities, he didn’t even flinch when it happened.

 

“I just thought those up the other night, we don’t have to do them,” Ron shrugged, chewing his lip. “Do you agree with my assessment of you, though?”

“Which was basically nervy, caustic but somewhat sexy? Oh, and, a fantastic kisser?” Severus turned to him.

“Where have I implied that you were caustic?” Ron demanded, sending the book across the room to bury in his bag again.

 

“Oh,” Severus dropped his eyes to the sheet. “No, you did not, you are right.”  
“You just assume I think that of you because you think it of yourself.”

“I _know_ it,” Severus corrected. “All my life all anybody has ever told me is that I am a miserable bastard with an acid tongue and no warmth.”

 

Ron looked at him for a moment before a kind smile turned up his lips. “Well, I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve said all that, and more –much ruder, too- in my time. But that was before I managed to get up close to you and break through the walls.”

 

“You haven’t gotten through anything,” Severus informed him with a slight glare.  
“Oh, so, really. This whole business about saving me,” Ron looked at the bathroom door. “The potion on the edge of the sink? The way you held me and kissed me last time? Would a miserable, cold, acidic bastard do all that?”

“Yes,” Severus reasoned. “Just because a person is one thing in the rest of their character it doesn’t mean that they are like it in every single instance.”

 

“I don’t buy it,” Ron shook his head with a grimace. “I think that when you’re in bed with someone and you’re being natural, your true personality comes out, and if it’s truly right, you can’t stop it.”

“Which is why you claim to be this power rentboy who has fucked hundreds of men and yet you get off on my moans and nearly melted when I kissed you?”

  
Severus hedged a bet again on the last part of the sentence and Ron’s blush told him he’d hit the target. “It seems you are not the only one capable of reading characters, Weasley. You forget that I was a spy. It was my job to read.”

“Shame you can’t read yourself, save us a lot of the belly-aching every time you turn up,” Ron snorted, and flopped down onto his back.

 

Severus said nothing to that, but looked back to the bag on the table. He had been sure within it he had seen a diary. “How does your schedule work?” He asked interestedly. “Do you arrange it or is everything done by her?”

“We tend to work together,” Ron replied. “But it’s getting towards Christmas now and it’ll get busier. I’ll probably have to go up to about six a night to keep her happy.”

“Jesus…” Severus couldn’t help the breathy disapproval.

“Just the way it is.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Severus muttered before he could stop himself. “What about Christmas, do you work?”

“Of course I fucking work!” Ron laughed. “Miserable families, men falling out with their wives, new lonely men needing company… busiest time of the year. I’ll work Christmas night like usual.”

 

Severus couldn’t help it, he found the thought abhorrent.

 

“And how much would one be forced to pay if one wanted to be your last client on Christmas night, I wonder?”

 

“You can’t afford it,” Ron’s voice was full of teasing which hardly made Severus feel any better.

“Try me.”

“Severus, you don’t have to do this if it’s your chivalrous side trying to get out again. Honestly. You spent enough years saving Harry. Go and live your life.”

“I am _not_ trying to save you,” Severus growled. “Is it so incomprehensible to your tiny mind that I might actually like what we…?” he waved between them as a finish.

  
“Which so far tonight has been rimming, then sitting around bitching and arguing for nearly two and a half hours,” Ron looked over at the clock on top of the alcohol cabinet.

 

“Can I book it or not?” Severus asked him flatly.

“Why are you wasting your money on me, Severus?” Ron asked, as if he’d just been bought an overly expensive gift. “Seriously. You have all the right components, go out there, find yourself a nice man and fall in love with him. You’re wasting yourself here.”

“Why do you say that?” Severus swallowed nervously.

“You’re attentive and attractive, Severus –when you make the effort with your hair, that’s pretty much all a bloke needs. Look so hot you could fry an egg on your arse and remember birthdays, anniversaries and deathdates and you’re there, I promise.”

 

“I don’t want a relationship,” Severus sighed. “I do not want someone intruding in on my life.”

“Yeah, fine, surely it would be cheaper than coming to see me every time you needed release, though?”

“Are you trying to chase me away, Weasley, is that what this is about?” Severus asked, chest aching for reasons he couldn’t explain.

 

Smooth hands landed on his shoulders then, and he took the weight of Ron’s body as he straddled his legs. Fingers tilted up his face and his lips were claimed in a tight and thoroughly dominated kiss. It rendered him speechless with his belly firing up in passion.

 

“No, Severus,” Ron pulled back. “I am not trying to chase you away. I’d be a fool to do that.”

“Because I pay so fucking well?” Severus’ lips curled up into a sneer.

Ron shook his head and kissed away the angry expression. “No, because you seem to be a very welcome fish out of water in this dump, and I’m not letting you go now I’ve got you.”

 

Severus shuddered when a hand grabbed his erection through the sheet and squeezed tightly.

 

“Unless you want to be let go, of course,” Ron murmured as an afterthought.

“Fuck no,” Severus cracked their noses together in attempt to shake his head and show just how much he didn’t want to stop.

“Please don’t,” Ron gave him a wan smile. “She doesn’t like it when she has to heal broken bones. Even if it wasn’t our fault.”

 

Severus tried his very hardest to push away the images of the redhead beaten and battered by the hand of whatever scum had been in his bed, but he couldn’t. His shoulders slumped and he exhaled loudly.

  
“Sorry,” Ron told him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

They fell to silence and Severus wondered if he would ever stop feeling guilty about his actions.

 

“So did you like any of my ideas in the book?” Ron changed the subject with false brightness.

“Yes,” Severus answered curtly. “All of them.”

“All of them?” Ron asked in surprise.

“I certainly wouldn’t rule any of them out.”

“Good,” Ron’s smile was true and bright. “I aim to please, and all that.”

“Did you bring that chocolate because you were planning on doing that…?”

 

“Well, to be honest, no, I bought that because I didn’t get dinner before I left and I’m starving,” Ron’s stomach gave a loud growl to hammer home his point.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“No time,” Ron lied badly, and Severus had no choice but to let it drop as he was kissed again.

 

Ron pulled up and gave him a somewhat dazzling smile, before reaching for his wand. Using it he summoned the remainder of the bottle of the whiskey and the open bar of chocolate.

 

“So. Chocolate and whiskey, two things you like, Severus?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“That depends on the quality,” Severus smirked back at him.

“Well we already know the whiskey’s a hit,” Ron unscrewed the cap and raised it to his own lips, taking a swig. He carefully raised it to Severus’ and tipped some into his mouth. “Let’s see about the chocolate.”

 

He left the bottle balancing down in between Severus’ legs as he reached over and broke off a chunk of chocolate.

 

“Actually, I think I can combine two of the ideas on the list, should have thought of his earlier,” Severus watched him get a firm grip on his wand. “Remember, we can stop at any time.”  
“Just bloody do it, you’re making me hungry,” Severus muttered, his eyes fixing on the melting confectionary in the redhead’s fingertips.

 

But what Ron actually did made him so hard his cock knocked against the whiskey bottle through the sheet. His hands rose up level with his head and were tied to the headboard of the bed with the same fabric that had blindfolded him earlier in the night. Forced backwards by his restraints, Severus noticed how his chest was completely on display to anything Ron wanted to do to it.

 

“Okay?” Ron murmured, his eyes sparkling through his fringe.

“Oh, absolutely dreadful,” Severus deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “No, I’m not being forced to rub against a glass bottle here…”

 

Ron looked down between them and a positively filthy smile lit up his features. “Tut tut,” he looked up again and then raised the lump of chocolate up to Severus’ mouth, holding it just out of his reach.  
“Do you do this often?” Severus scowled at him.

“What?” Ron asked innocently.  
“Tie up men in their forties, plug them with whiskey and then not give them delicious chocolate when they’re practically begging for it.”

“I didn’t think you would be a man for begging, Severus.”  
“It was a figure of speech, now give me the damned chocolate.”

“Say please,” Ron moved the chocolate further away.

 

Severus growled at him but wasn’t surprised when Ron did nothing but smirk a little harder.

 

 _When was the last time anybody played a game with me and walked away with both their legs in tact?_ Severus was stunned by the suddenly mischievous nature their evening had taken.

 

“What, you want this?” Ron waved it closer to his mouth and Severus tried to be one step ahead, to get it out of his fingers before he could jerk it away again. “Who knew you were so playful, hmm? I can be like that…”

 

Severus was trying to ignore the honey-sweet soporific tone Ron was laying on in spades, and his eyes caught the chocolate heading for his chest. He felt the sticky lump circle around his right nipple and then it was pressed completely over the centre. He looked down and saw that it had left a chocolate trail where it had touched.

 

And then he watched as Ron sat up, smirked once more, and put the chocolate in his own mouth, chewing with slow deliberate moves of his lips and then –Severus thought he might actually melt- he put his hand to his mouth and licked his chocolatey fingers clean.

“You bastard,” Severus hissed, with mingled disappointment over the lost mouthful and pleasure over the way Ron’s cheeks hollowed as he cleaned the last finger with a little suck.

 

Without warning the red hair flopped onto the skin of Severus’ chest as Ron latched onto his nipple and set about licking the chocolate from there, too.

 

_Sweet Galahad’s balls I’m going to die. Actually die. So refined, Severus. Forty-odd years of impeccable self-control and you’re undone by a leggy redhead, a bar of low-grade chocolate and bottle of bloody whiskey…_

He was jerked out of his lament by the fact his lips opened and he involuntarily gasped when teeth razed the flesh of his nipple, and then Ron sat up and looked at him.

 

“Now, ready to try the chocolate thing again?” He asked with a smile, reaching out and snapping off some more.

 

That time he didn’t tease, he put the piece straight to Severus’ mouth and set it against his lips. Keeping his eyes firmly locked onto their sapphire counterparts, Severus flicked out his tongue and licked at the sweetness parting his mouth before Ron pushed it in.

 

As it had before when he had heard Ron’s jaw clicking, being fed by him felt _too_ intimate, but at least the fires seemed to be burning again between them. Ron kept his fingers to Severus’ lips as he slowly chewed through the chocolate. But then he replaced them with his own lips and Severus couldn’t help the throaty moan which sounded, as a tongue thrust in and scooped the remainder of the sweet back into Ron’s own mouth.

 

“I’m just _really_ hungry,” Ron whispered, nose-to-nose with Severus.

“You’re just a cocky little bastard,” Severus smirked at him.

“Funny, I think there’s something else I could probably sate my appetite with,” Ron commented, and yanked the bottle up from in between them. He raised it to his lips once more, taking a considerably larger swig, Severus noted, and swilled it around his mouth before swallowing. Then the bottle was tipped to Severus’ lips again and he willingly took the measure of fiery amber, feeling it clear away the cloying chocolate on his back teeth.

 

“I’m not supposed to drink when I’m working,” Ron looked at the bottle pensively before raising it to his lips again and knocking some more back. “But if you’re pissed I don’t see why I shouldn’t be.”

“I am no such thing,” Severus narrowed his eyes.  
“Really?” Ron laughed. “Right.” He reached out and set the bottle down on the bedside table.

 

Then he shifted back, tugging the sheet with him as he went, revealing the rest of Severus’ body. He looked down at his almost-purple erection and wondered when it had gotten quite so engorged. Severus knew it would probably add much more weight to Ron’s drunken argument if he admitted he didn’t remember.

 

All thoughts of whether he was drunk, or that he was tied up, desperate, going-to-hell-for-being-in-a-whorehouse, completely without modesty and absolutely _everything_ else in his mind flew far away as Ron sank between his legs, grabbed another piece of chocolate, and began smoothing it over his cock, leaving milky brown streaks behind it.

 

_Must not giggle… ex-Potions Masters do not giggle at what that looks like…_

 

He swallowed hard and was glad when Ron ate the chocolate and immediately set to licking up what he had spread. Severus groaned and pressed his hips up, but found it hard without his hands. He found he had to be content with slumping bonelessly against the headboard as arousal was cleaned with precision by his whore’s talented mouth.

 

Severus felt a hot grip pressing into his hips and he knew Ron was holding him down; he instinctively bent up his legs and flung them wider, not caring how the backs of his thighs burned in complaint. His heels seemed to dig into the mattress as his head began to swim.

 

Ron had caught the head of his cock in between reddened lips and Severus’ mouth fell open in silent blissful torture as his cheeks hollowed as before and there was the most glorious sucking sensation assaulting his skin. With a few noisy slurps which made him shiver, Ron had moved down and then there were gentle licks all over his sac _,_ tracing over the hairy flesh before they were taken in just like his cock had been, and subjected to the slow, wet torment of sucking.

 

Severus hated the betraying gasp he let out when a finger grazed over his entrance and began to circle. He closed his eyes and felt his face burn up, making the sweat he hadn’t noticed tingle on his brow. He was moaning again, he could hear the deep, grumbling noises as though they came from far away.

 

_I most definitely do not sound like that sober. Fucking redhead._

Ron licked a broad swipe up his shaft and wrapped his free hand around the base. He stuck his tongue out and swirled it around the head, which Severus watched with a contorted face of amazement when he looked down. He bucked when Ron looked up and caught his gaze.

 

“You’re going to come for me,” Ron whispered, and without giving Severus the chance to protest, he swallowed him halfway, letting his tongue massage the underside, and then he began to bob his head up and down in the same maddening motions he had made the first time he had given Severus a blow job.

 

“Oh Christ… I…. ah… AHHH!” Severus threw his head back and ignored the painful thump he made on the headboard. All he cared about was the demon in between his legs intent on sucking his soul out through non-invasive measures via his penis.

 

And he knew from the tingling in his balls that Ron was going to get his orgasm out of him, knew it from the way his feet clenched up and his hands drew into fists.

 

 _That noise cannot, absolutely not, possibly be me,_ Severus was in denial to the last as he deciphered almost whimpering pants and mewls and groans.

 

“Oh, fucking hell, Ron, yes, yes, YES!!”

 

Sweat trickled down the side of his face, Severus couldn’t understand how he was so hot.

 

_Or so bloody ganting for it… fuck…_

 

The finger which had continued circling suddenly pressed into him and he arched up into Ron’s face, lodging his cock deeper in the man’s mouth, and then the finger brushed against the right place. He bucked again and felt his cock hit the back of a heated, wet throat and he choked, arched his back, and came hard, straight down into the muscles that had provoked his climax.

 

“Oh, _fuck_ , yes, oh sweet gods…” his own embarrassing litany of praise seemed to return to a higher volume as Ron pulled up and cleaned the come away from his cock as it dribbled out, reaching the end of the aftershocks.

 

And Severus lost all reason when the redhead lapping between his thighs actually groaned at the taste of him –Severus was sure there was no other catalyst for the noise. Ron’s eyes had slid shut at the same time and he suddenly wrapped his lips around the tip again, giving it a thorough wash before pulling up for the last time and sitting back on his heels. In his crotch Severus saw his erection jutting up.

 

He looked over the flushed face, almost as sweaty as his own was, and noticed some drops of missed semen on his bottom lip. Knowing that it was his nearly had him hard again, but his member just gave an almost painful twitch and sagged against his belly. Ron had licked it away within another ten seconds.

 

“Now that’s a lesson in letting go,” Ron breathed, coughing slightly as he reached for the bottle again.

“That can’t have tasted pleasant,” Severus didn’t lift his head from where it lolled against the board. His arms were beginning to tingle from the lack of blood.

“Not bad at all,” Ron gave him a wink and washed his mouth out with spirit, swallowing with a gasp. “And really, when you’re that happy about what I’m doing, I couldn’t give a fuck what it tasted like…”

 

He shot Severus a re-assuring smile and took another mouthful, before snatching up his wand and releasing his hands. He let out an exhausted groan and looked up, alarmed, when Severus reached out and grabbed hold of his erection.

 

“You don’t seriously think I’m going to let this go to waste, do you?” Severus raised an eyebrow at him.

 

Ron froze, one hand still clasped around the neck of the whiskey bottle. He looked down at his manhandled dick and murmured, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Severus announced, and then he pounced, sending Ron crashing back onto the mattress.

“Fuck, Sev,” he laughed, struggling to keep the bottle aloft and upright.

 

Severus grabbed it from him and upended it to his lips, throwing his head back, taking three large gulps before he banished it to the bedside table. Ron was looking up at him with glittering eyes and Severus gave his cock a hard squeeze.

 

He didn’t comment on what Ron had just called him. He was too buoyed up to ruin his mood with the past.

 

***

“No! Please, no!”

 

Severus was jerked from a deep sleep by the hoarse screaming which sounded like it was coming from right on top of his head. And then he gasped as a fist thumped hard into his gut, his limbs jerked in response and his eyes finally flew open.

 

With the lamp post outside turning the floor orange, Severus noted that it was still dark beyond it and then he looked sideways, seeing the form of Ron’s long body thrashing where he lay. He flew into a sitting position and realised that, again, for the second time he had woken up in the whorehouse bed next to Ron there was the presence of crashing thunder indicating a hangover pounding at his skull.

 

“Urgh,” he groaned, but the noise only seemed to set the flailing redhead off again.

 

But when words came again, they were different, lower, more desperate.

 

“No! No, you can’t… please don’t take him from me…”

 

Severus blinked in the darkness and didn’t know what to do, whether to wake Ron up or not, but he was forced into action when a hideous almost animalistic howling noise ripped out of the young man’s throat in what must have been agony in his nightmare. Unable to bear listening to the sounds of grief, Severus reached out and grabbed hold of Ron’s hands so they couldn’t smack into him again.

 

“Ron, wake up, it’s just a dream,” he said firmly, raising his voice as much as he could bear above the banging in his mind. “Ron,” he gave the hands a shake.

 

The words had levelled to a pathetic whimpering and Severus frowned in frustration. “Ron, come on, wake up, it’s just a nightmare,” he wondered when his agreements had ever included night time counselling for his whore.

 

He knew he was being harsh but his head hurt _so_ much. He shook the hands again and was relieved when Ron’s eyes finally flicked open and looked wildly up at him.

 

“S-Severus?” He muttered. “What’s going on?”

“You had a nightmare,” Severus replied to him and released his hands.

“Harry,” Ron murmured, reaching up to rub at his eyes and Severus wondered if tears had sprung up there. If they had, they were gone as Ron pulled his hand away and the shocked and frightened expression was replaced with one of utmost apology.

“I’m sorry, Severus, look –I’ll make it up to you,” he pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’ll come to yours and we can do a session completely free of charge.”  
“I don’t need to be fucked for free,” Severus heard his voice raspy with sleep, it sounded far harsher than he had intended. “S’long as you’re alright and don’t punch me in the stomach again.”

 

Severus saw Ron’s face bleach white in the dark room and looked at how his mouth fell open.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, reaching out touch his fingers to Severus’ naked skin. “Fuck. This is why I shouldn’t drink on the job, the whiskey…”

 

“Shh,” Severus whispered, if only to get him to stop aggravating the pounding in his head. He fell back down in the bed and yawned, reaching up to drag Ron’s warm and slightly sweaty body closer. “Roll over,” he muttered.

 

Ron complied without comment and Severus was able to mould himself to the man’s back, his arm hooked somewhat possessively over the taut stomach. He kissed a naked shoulder.

 

“Does that happen often?” he asked quietly, closing his eyes.

“Too often,” Ron whispered back.

“Dreamless sleep potions?”

  
Ron didn’t answer.

 

“I can get them for you.” Severus gave him a little squeeze.

“No,” Ron replied, voice stronger than it had been in the entire time since he’d come out of the dream.

“But if you’re suffering from-”

“I said no,” he repeated in a low, dangerous tone.

“Might I ask why not?” Severus refused to let it drop, a niggling feeling in his mind at what Ron’s answer might be.

“Because I don’t deserve them, nor do I deserve this,” he reached up and grabbed Severus’ lazily draped arm, and shoved it off his body.

 

He shifted to the other edge of the bed and Severus looked at his back open-mouthed with shock.

 

 _This is absolutely ridiculous._ His head hurt but his senses weren’t dulled, and Severus immediately scooted across to press into Ron again, and then he grabbed him much more tightly, rolling him back so he could work his other arm beneath his body. He heard a slight groan of protest but Ron did not move again. They lay almost on the very edge of the bed together.

 

“Nothing you say will get me to release you,” Severus whispered harshly in his ear. “Nothing you can say will convince me that you should be starved of comforting human touch, Ron. _Nothing_.”

“Why do you care?” Ron burst out desperately.

“I don’t know why I care,” Severus admitted quietly. “I don’t know why looking at you and how thin you are and how fucking depraved you look in that awful robe puffing away at your cigarettes makes my heart bleed. I’m not a bleeding heart kind of man, Weasley, you know that. But something about you…”

“Just stop,” Ron begged then, his voice getting quieter and quieter. “This is exactly what I didn’t want, exactly why I left home… I don’t deserve what you’re trying to give me.”

“Why the hell not, hmm?” Severus gave him a tight squeeze and a shake. “Why the fuck are you putting yourself through all this?”

 

“Because I couldn’t… I just… couldn’t be _normal._ I couldn’t live as we had...”

 

Severus might not have been the bleeding heart type, but even he nearly groaned at the misery in the words. He reached forward and placed a gentle kiss beneath Ron’s ear and nuzzled against his hair, wishing that their night could have ended on a happier note.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Firm hands gripped in his hair and Severus moaned at their pull. He possessed Ron’s mouth with what seemed like untamed strength, keeping him pinned to the bed with his body, his forearms pressing over defined collarbones to hold his head in place.

 

Severus wasn’t quite sure which part he was paying attention to more –the kiss, the desire in the sapphire eyes looking back at him or the fact they were fucking so very differently to any of their previous attempts. Despite the power he was exerting, the atmosphere in the whorehouse room was of overwhelming tenderness. Reluctantly he broke for air and wasn’t surprised when the hands kept him firmly in position.

 

“Don’t you dare move,” Ron muttered, and Severus watched with disbelief as the redhead’s eyes closed, not before he could see that they had rolled back in his head, his slender body thrust upwards and he yelled with satisfaction.

 

Severus couldn’t blame him; there was something which had seemingly set them both on fire that evening. His name was a breathy choke in the air and he felt his stomach flood with wetness as he watched the man beneath him shatter with his orgasm. The deep cries and moans only edged him nearer to his own finish but he was too wrapped up in seeing the pale skin flush, the face contort with pleasure and the thin form sink bonelessly back into the mattress.

 

“Sweet fucking Merlin, Severus…” he panted, cracking open his eyes the tiniest fraction and desperately licking his lips.

 

Simply blown away by the exquisiteness, Severus was frozen, his hands still locked in place with his fingertips dabbling in fiery locks of hair. Eyelids opened all the way and then Severus felt the legs thrown about his waist tighten once more, urging him on, and he bent his head to claim inflamed lips with his own. He heard Ron moaning again and wondered how he could find the strength to do _anything_ after an orgasm that Severus was fairly sure had made stars explode in his vision.

 

The thought that he was the reason for such vocal exertion did everything for his ego and erection, but what finally grabbed him, two sweaty minutes later, was the fact that Ron suddenly latched onto his throat and sucked, his teeth grazing the skin as he did so. Severus jerked out of his rhythm and yelped slightly as the first pulse of climax left him. He buried his face in Ron’s shoulder and ended up continuing to do so with every throb which racked through his cock.

 

He didn’t remember when Ron detached from his neck but his first hint were the warm hands sliding over his sweat-dewed back, one settling at the base of his spine whilst the other ran up and sank into the hair at the nape of his neck. The ability to make noise had deserted him by that point; all he could do was breathe.

 

They lay there together until he felt Ron try to stretch out awkwardly beneath him and he realised how trapped his body weight must have made the redhead feel. He rolled sideways without a word, landing gracefully on his back, his hair spilling out on the sheets. Severus heard the gentle purring growl he was growing used to associating with Ron’s stretches and couldn’t hide the minute upturning of the corners of his mouth.

 

“You always smile when I do that,” Ron commented, Severus didn’t need to open his eyes to know what was coming next and the smile, however small it was, did not fade from his face.

 

He felt Ron’s body weight crawl on top of him, and then felt the gentle brush of cotton on his upper arms as Ron wrapped them both in the top sheet of the bed, before he rested his head down on Severus’ shoulder. They let out an appreciative groan in unison.

 

“I wish you could stay tonight,” Ron whispered up, pressing his lips onto a collarbone.

 

Severus grunted his assent and lazily reached around to grab the ends of the sheet and tug it tighter around the thin body on top of him, which experience told him would probably start shivering if it wasn’t kept warm enough in the immediate aftermath of orgasm.

 

Neither of them had exactly mentioned how frequent Severus’ visits were becoming. There was one week left until Christmas and despite all of Ron’s protests about the money, Severus had booked his last slot for the holiday as well.

 

“I don’t see who would be so terribly important that they have to take my spot,” Severus muttered finally.

“Heh,” Ron snorted. “Someone who _really_ doesn’t want to be seen here, Severus, that’s who.”

“And you won’t give me even the smallest of hints?”

“Would you like it if I were giving my other clients hints about who you were?” Ron’s voice bordered on the edge of testiness and Severus sighed inwardly, knowing he’d been got.

“No,” he answered resentfully.

“Good, because I don’t, you know. And after that little mishap I don’t even bring my book with me any more.”

“I wish you didn’t do this,” Severus knew it must have been the thousandth time he’d spoken the words, and he also knew they would do nothing to improve Ron’s tone.

 

As he’d expected, the redhead neglected to answer him and instead shifted his thigh to run on the outside of Severus’ hip, throwing their sated and still dirtied groins together.

 

“Are you warm enough?” Severus asked, tightening the material in his fingers.

“I’m fine,” Ron assured him, his voice quiet with, Severus assumed, the awkwardness which he couldn’t seem to shake at finding someone actually caring about _his_ needs.

 

That reminded Severus of something else, but he wasn’t quite sure how it would be received when he brought it up. Four visits in total had taught him that more often than not, Ron didn’t actually seem to eat in a day, until he got to the point where he had to eat anything he could to keep going. After the last visit of watching him almost shaking with the hunger, Severus had had enough.

 

_Let’s not go into how fetching food for anybody is completely and utterly out of character for you, Severus…_

 

He couldn’t deny that it was. Since the war he had shut himself away from human companionship, other than those that he was forced to work with, and as such his relationship skills were as defunct as they had ever been. Certainly before the war he had cared in his own way, always working away in the background clearing the path for those whom it needed to be cleared. He had spent many minutes awake at night thinking how, inadvertently, Ron had been one of those people, even back then. Further minutes were spent trying to figure out just why he felt the need to act as he was towards the redhead which was, with every further visit, increasingly tender and caring.

 

_It’s clear the man’s fucked up. You’re just responding to that. Because you’re fucked up too and you know how soul-destroying it is to be alone._

But lying there, wrapped up in the soft sheet on which they’d just copulated Severus’ mind kept throwing in the suggestion that it was more, that there was _more_ to his want to help than he had yet realised. And _why_ there was a box of food shrunken in his coat pocket, so hidden that the witch running the brothel would not have seen it as he entered.

 

In the slower moments at work, or again at night when he waited for sleep to come, Severus couldn’t deny that he had tried to find a way to get Ron away from it, all of it.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Ron asked perceptively, raising his head a little to shoot Severus a just-shagged foggy kind of smile. “You keep tensing up.”

“Trying to decide how to voice something,” Severus replied quietly, prompting the redhead to sit up and lean on one arm, looking back down at him worriedly.

“What?”

Severus couldn’t believe the amount of fear the blue eyes now held, possibly the first he had ever actually seen cross them. “You don’t eat,” the words were blunt and he winced at their brashness.

“I eat,” Ron frowned.

“Really?” Severus challenged. “Healthily?”

 

“I eat when I remember,” Ron shrugged, and broke out of the sheet completely, slipping off the bed to reach for his cigarettes, which instantly told Severus just how he felt about the way the conversation was going.

“Don’t light that,” Severus instructed, and heaved himself off the bed, tugging the sheet with him and wrapping it around himself.

“Christ, I don’t eat, I shouldn’t light my fag… what’s next, Severus?” Ron asked, keeping his face pointing out of the window though somehow the defiant set of his jaw came through in his words.

 

“When are you going to get over your inhibitions and realise that you have somehow landed yourself a client who actually _cares_ about your health and state of mind?”

“Well, I can tell you now not to waste your breath about my state of mind,” Ron snorted, lighting the cigarette anyway. “We both know it’s a lost cause, Severus. From one damaged person to another…”

 

Severus threw him a filthy look that Ron didn’t see at the open declaration that they were both as equally broken as one another, an assessment that Severus couldn’t quite acquiesce with. After all, he was no longer waking up screaming, he wasn’t the one starving himself and _he_ wasn’t the one whoring his body night after night.

 

“You can stand there and think I’m wrong all you like,” Ron’s voice grew icier with every single word he spoke and Severus immediately knew he should have kept his mouth closed. The beautiful tenderness had long gone. “But Severus, you’re the one using this place, using my body to get needs you refuse to satisfy elsewhere. Don’t stand there and tell me you’re not broken.”

 

Severus hated how Ron could stand there and talk about the fact that his life was in tatters as though it were nothing more than a hastily scrawled note somewhere, so inconsequential that it didn’t warrant tact or softness. Severus recognised it was the truth about his _own_ life, but he was quite sure he would never be able to stomach hearing it from the man in front of him, no matter how many times it was said.

 

“Anyway, back to my original point,” Severus ignored Ron’s light scoff when he pointedly changed the subject. “I thought you might like some nourishment…”

 

He reached into his coat and pulled out the box, still hot thanks to the heating and preserving charm. He located his wand in the inside pocket and enlarged it to normal size before walking back to the window and pressing it into Ron’s hands.

 

“And if you don’t eat that, I’ll be bitterly offended and I’ll cancel my Christmas session and never come back,” Severus shoved an edge into his tone, hoping to convince Ron that he meant it, that if the man didn’t start to show more regard for himself then they would never share what they just had on the bed again.

 

Maybe Ron believed him, there was a flash of something in the sapphire eyes that Severus didn’t quite recognise. Either way, Ron kept hold of the box and reached out to set the cigarette in the ashtray.

 

“We’ve only got about ten minutes left, so hurry up,” Severus motioned to the clock, eyes narrowing with loathing at being constrained to a time schedule.

“It feels weird knowing you won’t be here the whole night,” Ron looked at him, almost sadly. “Oh Merlin, Severus, do you know how long it’s been since I had a fucking sausage sandwich?”

 

Severus gave him a tight nervous half-smile and turned away, looking randomly at anything he could to avoid having to look at the redhead as he ate.

 

“How did you know it should be tomato sauce?” Ron asked through a mouthful.

“Call it a hunch,” Severus replied without looking around.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Ron said softly, Severus heard the bed creak as it was sat upon. “But I’m… thank you.”

 

The words were thick, clouded with either emotion or masticated sausage, Severus couldn’t quite tell. “I don’t need your thanks, I need you to eat,” he answered honestly. “And when you’re done with you’re going to tell me what you like so I can bring you more next time.”

 

“And if I say no?”

“Then there won’t be a next time,” Severus answered firmly.

 

He heard the gentle sounds of chewing through the silence and wondered if his bluff had been accepted. Of course he’d come back, there was no way he would give up the best form of release he’d had in years over a matter of food. But Ron had no need to know that and Severus wasn’t going to volunteer the knowledge.

  
“All right,” Ron swallowed. “I’m done.”

 

“You can’t possibly be,” Severus finally turned around but saw that the box was empty. “Where’s the rest of it… it doesn’t count, Weasley, if you vanish the food.”

“I ate it,” Ron looked at him. “Surely you can remember the way I used to devour half the Gryffindor meal table?”

 

Severus thought back and remembered all the times he’d seen the boy version of the man naked on the bed stuffing his face.

 

“If you like food so much, Ron, why don’t you bother to eat it?” Severus asked, tugging the sheet tighter about his shoulders, seeing that he had approximately five minutes before his time was up.

 

Ron set the box down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I do eat.”

“Why don’t you eat properly then, how about that? You seem like you had a healthy upbringing, you know you need food to survive, so why do I only ever see you eating rubbish?”

“Why is this even an issue, Severus?” Ron asked wearily. “My hair is shiny, my nails are strong and all that bollocks…”

“Your ribs show more each time I lay eyes on you,” Severus continued airily.  
“Well you’re one to talk,” Ron muttered, getting to his feet and summoning his robe. “Skinny as a bloody rake.”

“But I’m that with eating. You were too, once upon a time. Now it simply looks as though you are skinny by choice.”

“And if I am?” Ron shrugged into the robe.

 

Severus had no words for him then, the fight gusting out of him as he reached to dress.

 

“I appreciate you bringing the food, I really do,” Ron said warmly. “But Severus… this _isn’t_ a relationship. It’s not even a friendship. It’s business.”

 

Never in the world would Severus have expected those words to sting as much as they did.

 

“I see,” he answered in a non-committal tone, stepping into his trousers and doing up the fly. He reached for his shirt and pulled it on, his fingers stiff with the shame creeping through his body.

 

Ron let him dress in silence, and when Severus finally turned to retrieve his coat from the stand in the corner of the room, the redhead was just standing there, shooting spells with his wand to freshen the room for his next client. He picked up the box and handed it to Severus without a word. He shrunk it and slipped it back into his pocket and turned to leave.

 

With what had been spoken, he was surprised when Ron’s hands shot out and latched onto his arm, pulling him close. Severus raised his eyes to look into the slightly anxious looking face before he was kissed, gently, and the hands smoothed over his back and tangled in his hair.

 

“Thank you,” Ron whispered, leaning back in for another kiss.

 

Severus wasn’t sure but he thought he felt a purposeful nudge of the long nose on his own, but then Ron had pulled away and there was planned distance between them.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Ron gave him a curt nod and disappeared into the tiny bathroom.

 

Severus quietly exited the room, heart seemingly thumping extra hard. He reached up and rubbed his chest through his coat, still feeling the imprint of those hands on his back.

 

***

Sitting at his desk on what was essentially his last day at work before the Christmas break, Severus felt utterly shattered. He had apparated home from seeing Ron and proceeded to get incredibly drunk on a very old bottle of wine he’d forgotten he owned. He didn’t remember what the hour had finally been when he’d stumbled up to bed, only that he hadn’t achieved sleep once he was there. He had tossed and turned, knowing he should get up for a sleeping draught but for some reason he had denied himself.

 

That in turn had only made him think of Ron and everything the redhead deprived himself of. And when he was done fretting over the man’s mental and bodily state, Severus’ fingers had crept south and he had thought of their exploits that night, the strong, hot kisses and lingering touches. He’d kept at that until he spilled over his hand panting Ron’s name to his empty bedroom.

 

Once he was down from the high, he had flung his face into the pillows and growled at himself for being as stupid as to think of a man he could only ever have if he paid for the pleasure.

 

 _Possessive idiot._ He growled the words inwardly and yawned, his hand barely making it to cover his mouth.

 

“Someone’s tired this morning, late night?”

“You have no idea,” Severus moaned, letting his face fall forwards into his hands.

“Tell your godson everything,” Draco drawled from behind his own desk.

 

Severus hated working at the Ministry. If they had offered him _anything_ other than Azkaban he would have taken it. Even in his youth he had been opposed to a career within the magical government, which so many of his school peers had strived for. He could see nothing but the corrupt nature, the sleaze and the lies, even at the tender age of fifteen during his first careers meeting with Horace Slughorn.

 

And most of all he hated that he was forced to work with Draco Malfoy, who had been offered the same terms for his own safety. Technically his godson for reasons Severus had never understood _other_ than Lucius’ need to ensnare him further in the incestuous web of Death Eaters he wove, Draco had been changed by the war, as everyone had. But he still retained many of the qualities which made most people want to smash his head into a wall.

 

“I’m telling you nothing,” Severus said pointedly, and prised his face out of his fingers to reach for the cooling mug of tea off to his left.

 

The clock on the wall read half past eleven, even though he felt as though he’d been there for a whole day at least. Assessing the late hour he assumed that the two of them would be alone for the rest of the day, their third colleague being absent. Again.

 

“You’re dull, Severus,” Draco warned him, and tipped back his office chair so that he was lounging with his own mug of tea resting on the arm.

“Well, after all these years, I’ll take it,” Severus muttered and ignored Draco’s answering snort.

 

“Funny, the last few weeks you’ve had a bit more spring in your step than usual, not bellowing as much…” Draco mused, his grey eyes flickering over Severus’ face. “Any reason?”

“If there was, Draco, do you really think I’d take the time out of my incredibly busy day to detail it to you?”

 

“Has that bitch from accounts been spreading rumours again?” Draco asked.

“No, I think you firmly closed her mouth when you threatened to put it about that you’d caught her with the caretaker after hours,” Severus shot him a rare grateful smile.

 

With their past it had always been inevitable that their presence in the building would not be welcomed, even though they were paid by the same employers as everybody else. Severus had always thought that having ‘Department of Dark Magic Investigation and Registration’ on the door never really helped their popularity to rise.

 

 _Might as well nail an effigy of the Dark Lord’s dead body to the door…_ He scowled down into his tea before taking a mouthful.

 

“I’m not surprised, he’s got the face of a troll,” Draco yawned.

 

“I hate this,” Severus burst out angrily.

“What, this beautifully compact office, your job, the world?” Draco took random stabs in a sardonic voice, plucking ideas from Severus’ past rants.

“All of it. And I absolutely bloody _loathe_ relationships and love and _happy_ people.”

 

“I must say, Severus, that’s a not _particularly_ a new development, is it, really?”

“I don’t give a fuc-”

 

Draco coughed loudly then and Severus’ head snapped up, he locked eyes with the person just about to knock on their open office door.

 

Long red hair, black quirky robes and an earring with a fang dangling from it were the defining features of the man standing with his hand raised.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said politely.

“Ignore him,” Draco said ruefully. “I think somebody might have drugged his morning tea with bitching solution.”

 

Severus ignored the small talk that followed, and even sidelined the amazement which always overcame him when he saw Draco talking politely to _anybody_ on the side of the Light, the people that had robbed his family wealth in the declaration of punishment. He found himself very much occupied with another thought –that which screamed in his mind:

 

_I know where your brother is…_

 

It sounded so sordid that Severus almost laughed before he remembered that actually it was every single bit as sordid as that. He wondered how Bill Weasley would take the news that he had been fucking his youngest brother for the past few weeks, feeding the corrupt brothel in which he worked with his ministry earned money. Severus swallowed nervously as the blue eyes, a lighter shade than Ron’s, turned back to him. They were kind and un-accusing after five years, after the truth was accepted, but it only made him feel guiltier.

 

“Hope your day gets better,” Bill raised his eyebrows as he turned to leave.

“Doubtful,” Severus managed to get out and gave the tall, thin man a nod of his head.

 

_How have I never noticed how alike they were? God._

 

He tried to mentally calculate Bill’s age. He must have been over thirty by that point, considering Ron’s twenty-three years.

 

Severus was jerked from his musings by a screwed up ball of parchment flicking into his face. He jumped and slammed down his mug on the desk.

 

“What?!” He half-roared.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today?” Draco’s handsome face creased into a frown and Severus found it odd to see. Despite everything that had happened, somehow the blonde had managed to find his peace and it wasn’t often such expressions crossed him anymore.

 

“Didn’t get any sleep,” Severus picked up the ball of paper where it had fallen. Normally he would have sought retaliation by charming it to burn and have it chase Draco around the tiny office, but he found he didn’t have the energy to reach for his wand.

“Thank fuck for imposed Christmas holidays, yes?” Draco asked him.

“I’d rather be working.”

 

“So, let me get this straight,” Draco sat up properly in his chair. “You hate being here, but when faced with time off, you just want to come back to work? Sadist.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” Severus shot back sarcastically. “What did Weasley bring?”

 

“Just the report on that bracelet that turned up in Borgin’s,” Draco waved at the parchment. “Which you’ll have to deal with because you know I’m…”

“Banned,” Severus threw in with a vicious smirk.

“Shut up,” Draco glowered. “And let’s just put it to some ridiculous metaphor about water and bridges and leave it at that, shall we?”

 

Severus said nothing but didn’t wipe the smug look off his face.

 

“I don’t like you sleep-deprived, you’re _mean_ ,” Draco threw him a childish eye roll.

“I was always sleep-deprived at Hogwarts.”  
“And ask anybody and they’ll tell you they feared seeing the word ‘Potions’ on their timetable.”

“Did you?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck no, best entertainment of the week watching you rag on Potter, Weasley and Granger.”

 

“You should watch your language in the workplace,” Severus said stonily at the mention of Ron.

“Oh, please, because they’re all dead I have to be all reverent and caring now?” one perfectly shaped platinum eyebrow rose with disdain. “I’d never have thought you’d get all ‘respect for the dead’ over Potter’s corpse.”

 

“Three of them?” Severus backpedalled. “Weasley survived.”

“And then disappeared, never to be heard from again,” Draco’s voice lowered as he obviously looked out into the hallway to check that the eldest Weasley brother wasn’t lingering. “He must be dead, he’s never come back. Coward.”

 

Severus fought off the impulse to pick up his remaining tea and throw it in the pale face. “I don’t think that’s particularly fair, Draco.”

“Nothing’s fair,” Draco reminded him with a glint in his eye.

“Well quite, what happened to him is proof of that,” Severus looked down at the desk. “Can’t have been easy…”

“Why do you care?” Draco’s voice was full of incredulity.

 

_Because I’m fucking him, you idiotic blonde bimbo._

 

“I don’t, I just think it’s easy to sit and judge if you haven’t been through a situation.”

“This, from the most unsympathetic man in the world?” Draco laughed then. “ _This_ from the man who doesn’t sign the department birthday cards or contribute to the present funds? Really, Severus, the change of heart is touching but I have to say I don’t believe it for a second.”

 

Severus shot him a glare and said nothing.

 

“I think there’s something going on that you’re not telling me,” Draco mused, and with his wand shut the door without moving from his chair. “Severus, we both know that we’re all the other has left, so come on…”

“Your parents are still alive Draco,” Severus pointed out.  
“In a quiet village in Europe and I see them on birthdays and Christmas if I’m lucky,” there was scorn diluting into Draco’s well-polished tone.

“Either way, I’m not telling you anything because there is nothing to tell, and if you know what is good for you, you will stop talking this instant and disregard it,” Severus glared some more, simply for effect.

 

“Suppose this isn’t the right time to tell you I’m going out for lunch today?” Draco made an apologetic face.  
“But its Friday!” Severus protested automatically.

“I know,” Draco flushed in his apology. “But… you know… Asteria wanted to meet and I really think this is going somewhere, Severus. I’m not going to fuck it up because you can’t do without your Friday Fix of crappy muggle food.”

 

Severus knew he couldn’t fight the analysis. Draco had the chance for something he did not –a loving partner, and as much as he wanted their usual Friday gorge at the nearest all-you-can-eat muggle Chinese, he wouldn’t begrudge him it.

 

“Fine,” he sighed, slumping back in his chair, positively loathing how the only remaining shining light in his awful day had been snuffed out.

“You could always go by yourself?” Draco suggested.  
“There is nothing sadder than seeing someone dining alone,” Severus dismissed him.  
“Actually I think it’s rather independent and stylish,” Draco objected. “Take a book, bury your nose in it and stick two fingers up to the rest of the world –you’re above their company.”

 

“Only you could see that as a positive outcome,” Severus rolled his eyes, watching as the blonde got to his feet and reached for his cloak.

 

During the time they had been talking the hands on the clock seemed to have jumped forward to midday.

 

“Well, either way, it looks as though I’ll be participating in such an independent lunch in the bloody cafeteria,” Severus grumbled, throwing him another filthy look.

“I think I might owl ahead and get them to lace your food with cheering potion,” Draco sighed. “Because it’s going to be a fucking long afternoon if you keep this up.”

 

He threw Severus a pointed look and strolled from the room, his stylish cloak flapping around the door frame as he disappeared into the corridor.

 

Left alone in the office, Severus looked at the small space and wondered how his life had become so impossibly dull. Even teaching the wizarding world’s spawn had been preferable –at least there the food was free and his office magnificent.

 

The yellowed walls of the workspace smaller than his living room were certainly a come down.

 

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands again, mind swimming with the tiredness and worry. Severus would never admit to the redhead just quite how much time he spent thinking about him, and thereby worrying about him, during his waking hours. It surprised _him_ enough without letting anybody else in on the secret. As Draco had so tactfully implied, he was not one for sob stories.

 

_Or any kind of stories… heroes… love… birthdays… rubbish, all of it._

 

Sitting there he was overcome with the urge to seek out the supposedly missing redhead and hold him. It scared Severus into leaping out of his seat and almost jumping out of the office, away from the terrifying thoughts which indicated just how attached he had become to his whore.

 

_You don’t even know where he lives._

 

He walked quickly through the maze of corridors in the Ministry, keeping his eyes glued on the carpet so that he might escape being drawn into any infuriating conversations for the time being. The one in his own head was far more interesting.

 

_You could send a message…_

 

He dismissed the thought as he took the back staircase up to the next level, not being a fan of the haphazard lifts, one of which had become stuck the day before. Tight enclosed spaces with annoying faces were definitely not what Severus needed.

 

_One little message…_

 

Severus found himself wanting to beat the notion out of his own brain, which was not only ridiculous but borderline abusive. His nose caught the scent of the food hall and pushed through the doors, the inane chatter of hundreds of ministry workers with nowhere better to eat assaulting his exhausted head.

 

He purchased his lunch with barely more than a few nods and a glare at the server glaring back at him. He paid, sought out space in a corner and sat, listlessly dragging his fork through what may or may not have resembled Shepherd’s Pie. It was hard to tell. He took a mouthful of pumpkin juice and tried to calculate the percentage at which it had been watered down.

 

_Do they think we don’t actually notice when they do this? Ridiculous budget cuts and-_

Severus cut off his mental rant about the Ministry’s food provision for its workers by two men settling into the table in front of his. Both of them had gleaming red hair, one man’s long and straight, the other’s impossibly curly and unruly. He nearly choked on the doctored pumpkin juice with the realisation of who they were.

 

 _Fucking Weasleys just will not leave me alone!_ He scooped up a forkful of food and kept his eyes on it, so that it wasn’t obvious he was listening to their somewhat low and whispered conversation.

 

“You know what she’s like around now,” the one with the curly hair spoke, Severus wanted to call him Charlie but wasn’t sure.

“Well it’s hardly unexpected,” Bill answered him. “And anyway, it doesn’t help when George is off the planet.”

“I know. She’s only lost one son officially and yet it’s pretty much three, isn’t it?”

“It was four until you dragged your backside home from Romania,” Severus picked up resentment in that tone.

“Sorry for having a life,” Charlie muttered.

 

From his position Severus could see the way that one of the taller redhead’s knees knocked against the shorter man’s, an unspoken gesture of solidarity, he assumed.

 

“So please, don’t leave me alone with them for Christmas,” Charlie’s voice had turned to begging. “Bring Fleur, and we’ll just get through it together. I can’t do it, Bill. Not with Perce floating around like nothing’s wrong, like nothing was broken, Ginny being away and just…”  
“Alright,” Bill snapped, and his head jerked up. “Shut up, Dad’s coming.”

 

Severus at the rest of his food quickly then, eager not to be noticed by the three redheads at the table. He was rather confused, he had thought that Charlie had lived abroad working with dragons, but it seemed he had permanently transferred to England and worked at the Ministry if he was eating in the godforsaken cafeteria –Severus could find no other reason why anybody would willingly otherwise put themselves through it.

 

A strange thought struck him then, that Ron had absolutely no idea of what his family were doing, how their lives had evolved since the end of the war, but Severus now had the power to tell him if he wanted to hear it.

 

The urge which had attacked him in his office came back with force and he stood up, grabbing the tray and floating it off to the designated disposal area. He hurried away from the corner and found himself in the corridor before he could believe he’d gotten out of the room without the redheads spotting him. Being forced to make small talk would have just been too much.

 

Hurrying through the labyrinth he made for his office, knowing he still had approximately fifty minutes left of his lunch hour, but he didn’t care, just wanted the sanctuary of the room he’d needed to escape only ten minutes before. The door came into sight and he pushed it open, glad to see that Draco had not returned.

 

His eyes caught sight of the fireplace in the room which was used for messages only.

 

_Well that’s out, you don’t know his address._

 

Severus didn’t want his address, either. Severus didn’t want anything to do with him outside of the brothel, and that was all he was likely to get anyway.

 

_You want him outside the brothel._

 

His day was clearly doomed to the dregs and he fell into his chair and laid his forehead down flat on the wood of the desk.

 

_Wand. Patronus. Done._

 

Severus would never want to admit how long he considered the idea before dismissing it.

 

_Friday night… all alone… nearly Christmas… company is good for you…_

He wasn’t quite sure who the hell was talking to him in his brain but Severus wished they would desist; they were weakening his resolve with every whispered word.

 

_Send the message… he’s probably working… and he’ll say no… and you can forget the idea…_

His wand was in his hand before he even really thought past that. If the redhead said no then it was nothing more than just a bad idea, and Ron had told him anything between them was strictly professional.

 

_Except his is the only profession where that does actually mean fucking each other during working hours…_

He looked at the wand in his hand.

 

***

Ron was half-buried under one of the pillows on the bed when he felt something cold brush across his bare upper arm. Every single inch of his body ached and he knew when he looked in the mirror he was going to find a veritable mess. He’d only been in from work for three hours and he had fallen face first into the bed and spelled off his clothes.

  
Jerking his head up he looked for the source of the coolness and nearly jumped out of the bed when he saw himself staring at the shimmery translucent form of a cat. He blinked at it suspiciously. Ron had never seen the particular cat before, but then he wasn’t sure he wasn’t asleep. And then the thing spoke, and his ears were filled with the velvety rich voice he’d been inexplicably longing to hear since eleven o’ clock the night before, when the owner had strode away from him, leaving him to an evening of absolutely hellish work.

 

_‘Ron, forgive me if this oversteps the boundaries of our contract, but I am unable to get you off my mind today. Why, I’m not entirely sure. But I would like to meet you tonight, if you’re not working. Let me know. I will be alone for the next half an hour.’_

The cat then faded and Ron let out a groan of desperation and flung his face back down into the mattress.

  
“Whhhhy?” his voice was muffled and his lips scraped over the sheets. “Fuck. Being a whore is _not_ meant to be this complicated.”

 

He wasn’t surprised, however, that Severus had sent the message. With each passing visit he had felt more warmth in their embrace and seen the growing glitter in the dark eyes. Of course, he couldn’t shy away from them for fear of hurting the man or acting out of line in regards to his contract. Normally Ron had absolutely no problem giving them what they wanted –the bruises covering his body were testament to that. It was just that none of them had ever come to him wanting what Severus seemed to, which was very obviously a lover, from Ron’s point of view.

 

 _Breaks all the rules to go…_ His mind was sluggish from his tiredness. _But then… I offered to give him a free session when he dealt with that nightmare and I punched him in the gut…_ Ron winced hard at the memory. That night he had made a solemn vow he would never drink in Severus’ presence again. He, of all the clients Ron could have fitted on in the middle of the night, should not have had to deal with the nightmare that he had.

 

_Not that he seemed to care… just wanted me calm and safe…_

_Which is why this is stupidly fucked and you should by no means answer that Patronus._

 

Ron coughed and his neck muscles ached. _Fucking bastard. I wish I could kill him for what he put me through last night…_

He chased the thoughts away, knowing he had no right to moan about the damage caused by his last client of the night when he could easily have protected himself from it, but he chose not to. If he _chose_ to answer Severus’ Patronus he would have to spend a good few hours healing himself, which he hated doing, preferring to let nature take its course as long as he could.

 

 _He would go absolutely postal if he saw you like this…_ Ron knew turning up unaltered wasn’t an option, and remembered the night when Severus had seen the fresh marks around his neck from a slightly over-enthusiastic client two slots before. His face had transformed into the angry man Ron remembered from his school years and he had actually been quite chastened by it.

 

_Don’t make him wait, it’s cruel._

Ron groped sideways for his wand, which he vaguely remembered chucking on the bedside table. With a clatter the alarm clock went flying onto the floor and he moaned. At last his fingers curled around the stick of wood.

 

It was only then that he realised he wasn’t sure if he could bear viewing the happy memory used to drum up the required Patronus.

 

He closed his eyes and prepared to hurt a whole lot more than he had in the entirety of the bruising session the night before.

 

***

Severus’ head snapped up the second he caught sight of the gleaming silver Jack Russell Terrier.

 

_I suppose that’s ironic, cat and dog Patronuses. A sign, probably._

His own Patronus had morphed back to its original form two years before. He had been shocked the first time he had cast it to find the cat looking back at him and immediately he was filled with a longing for his silver doe and everything it meant. The cat meant undoubted newness, that somehow, with his survival in the war; his love had finally lessened its grip on his soul. He had never felt lonelier.

 

_Not to mention the ribbing you took when Draco found out the great Potions Master’s inner soul resembled a tiny black kitty cat._

The dog spoke. _‘Where do I meet you?’_ Ron’s low rumbling voice was music to his ears.

 

As so often where the redhead was concerned, Severus knew he would never admit just how many somersaults his stomach performed on hearing the words, on learning that he would be able to be around the man without the stigma of the brothel attached to it. He immediately pulled out his wand and drummed up the cat again.

 

***

Ron scribbled down the address the best he could on a tissue from the side of the bed. The cat repeated it three times for him and then, after saying that he looked forward to it, it faded out.

 

He peered at the address. Ron had never asked where Severus lived but had foolishly assumed he lived in the city. But the address was marked as Surrey. He remembered Harry telling him his family home was up north.

 

He picked up his wand next to the tissue to answer.

 

***

Severus was waiting for the dog that time.

 

_‘Okay, I’ll be there at seven. Looking forward to seeing you. Is there anything you’d like me to bring?’_

 

***

Ron actually smiled when the cat turned up again.

 

_‘Just your usual attractive nature and maybe a bottle of wine. My time alone is nearly up; my colleague will be back soon, so I’ll see you this evening.’_

He picked up his wand again, his lips curving up more.

 

***

_‘I like the cat.’_

Severus couldn’t help it; he blushed, with what might have been pleasure wholly unrelated to sexual pursuits.

 

_Fucking bastard can still get me and he’s not even truly here. Shit._

***

At five to seven, Ron popped out of thin air into the freezing December blackness. He had landed on the tarmac of a narrow country lane, it seemed, and it wasn’t until he’d turned round that the saw the house. His mouth might have fallen open, he wasn’t sure, but he certainly hadn’t expected to find his client and ex-professor living in the middle of nowhere in an idyllic red-brick cottage.

 

He checked the tissue in his hand once more to check that he’d read it correctly.

 

 

 

Inside, Severus tapped his wand to clear the sensory alarm which was beeping subtly to alert him to someone’s presence inside the wards of his perimeter. He had all but thrown himself out of the office at the end of the day, not bothering to stop and look in on the Christmas party that Draco had tried to entice him to, and instead had apparated home to try and wade through the mess in his living room.

 

He’d lost count of how many times he’d asked the cat how one man in his forties and herself could make so much mess. At points he was almost convinced she was going to answer. Severus looked at the black tiny creature, remarkably similar to his Patronus, cleaning herself in front of the fire.

 

“Couldn’t you find a less obvious focal point in the room to do that?”

 

_Chiding a cat… this is where the boy knocks on the door, finds out you’re really a mad old spinster and runs far, far away…_

 

Severus had to confess there was a very great chance of that without even taking his conversations with the cat into account. He heard the thudding of a fist on the front door and walked slowly into the tiny hallway, very purposefully _not_ checking his appearance in the mirror. He couldn’t help the nervous breath before he pulled back the heavy old door, though.

 

Ron stood on his porch, his pale skin illuminated in the light spilling out from inside the house. His hair was shining.

 

_Oh, fuck._

 

“Hello,” Severus said awkwardly.

“Hi,” Ron smiled at him. “Bit weird doing it this way, right? I don’t think I’ve had to do the ‘turning up on a doorstep’ thing in years.”

 

Severus gave him a small smirk of appreciation and stepped back, waving him in.

 

“So… this is where you live?” Ron asked, his voice low and it seemed to seep straight into the walls, like it belonged.

 

Trying very hard not to focus on that fact, Severus motioned for his coat. “Yes. Small but enough for me.”

“It’s great,” Ron was looking interestedly around at the old walls and the beams in the ceiling. “Has a lot of character. Oh!”

 

Severus looked back to the redhead and saw him looking down at the carpet, where the cat was doing her usual trick of staring in an intimidatory fashion up at their guest, her tail flicking slowly behind her.

 

“You never said you had a cat!” Ron crouched down on one knee and reached out to tickle the dark ears.

 

“When in the four times we’ve seen each other has there _ever_ been the opportune moment to talk about pets?” Severus raised an eyebrow and Ron laughed.

“No, guess you’re right,” he murmured, and then he stood up, Severus was shocked to see, with the cat in his arms. “What?” he frowned when he realised that Severus was staring.

“My cat hates people,” he breathed. “ _Actually_ hates people. She barely lets me hold her let alone anyone else.”

“Funny, they say animals are like their owners,” Ron shot him a wink. “There’s nothing wrong with you, is there sweetie?”

 

Severus proceeded to watch in utmost astonishment as the cat threw her head back and nuzzled it against Ron’s neck. “Well. Christ.”

 

“Does she have a name or is she simply ‘cat’?”

“Well, she does, but it’s never used because she doesn’t answer to it anyway,” Severus took a step closer and reached out his hand, but then the cat hissed loudly at him and returned to purring against Ron’s neck. “Looks like you’ve got a new best friend,” he gave a bitter tut.

 

He didn’t think of the words as he said them and at first didn’t understand the slightly stunned look on Ron’s face. Severus immediately felt like a fool. “I’m sorry, I am not used to having to guard my tongue in my own home, nobody ever comes here… terrible excuse, I know…”

 

_And now you’re babbling. Spade’s in the shed, Severus, keep digging till you reach the other side of the world and then you might have stopped blushing…_

“Its fine,” Ron gave him a somewhat serene smile and placed the cat gently back on the floor, where she pounced on his bootlaces and meowed.

 

They were then interrupted by a loud dinging from the kitchen. “Sorry, that’s dinner,” Severus explained.

“You made me dinner?”

 

There was a frown on Ron’s face which was almost funny and Severus had to fight down his nervous laughter.

  
“Yes, what did you think I’d invite you here for?”

“A continuation of what you come to _me_ for...” Ron hedged.

“Oh.”

 

Severus thought back over his messages and instantly felt furious with himself –he had never _actually_ clarified why he was inviting Ron to his home. _Of course he would have interpreted as just a private session…_

 

“So you… you didn’t invite me here for that then?”

“Well,” Severus took a step closer and dodged the cat. “I’m not ruling anything out.”

 

Ron fixed him with glittering blue eyes. “I’m glad I wasn’t working tonight.”

“I’m glad you weren’t either,” Severus nudged him back against the wall and let his hands trail up his sides. “I must say I prefer you in clothes to that blasted robe.”

 

Ron didn’t answer; he simply kissed Severus and threw his arms around his torso. They stood there for a few moments, each stealing the other’s breath away, and Severus suddenly realised both his palms had landed flat on the wall and his body trapped Ron against it completely.

 

The noise rang out from the kitchen again and Severus swore under his breath, pushing off the structure of the house and breaking their lip contact. “I should sort that out.”

“Mm,” Ron smiled at him, and followed him off the wall into the living room. “You never did tell me the cat’s name,” he said, his eyes examining everything he could see.

 

It was most odd for Severus to see someone in his house, looking in wonder at the things that were there. He didn’t have very much, and had certainly neglected to take most of the items from Spinner’s End.

 

“When did you move here?” Ron asked from where he stood looking at the photographs on the fireplace, casually nosy with his hands rammed in his jeans pockets.

“About six months after they found me. I didn’t want to live in my old family home so I stripped it and sold it, and bought this one,” Severus called from the kitchen.

 

The house was old and had been almost derelict when he’d moved in; the estate agent seemed to think he was psychologically challenged for even considering it, but with magic the improvements had barely amounted to a full day’s work.

 

“It’s really… homey,” Ron said.

“That surprises you?” Severus asked quietly.

“No, I just… never really given much thought to where you lived, is all.”

“There’s not much to it, living room, kitchen, hall, bedroom upstairs and a bathroom. Enough for me and the cat.”

“It’s nice,” Ron assured him and Severus saw the awkwardness in the man’s stance.

“Ron… I don’t really know why I asked you here tonight.”

“I don’t know why I came,” Ron answered him, the honesty seeping onto his face. “This is against the rules. Home visits are strictly out.”

“Why would I pay to come there if you could come here for free, right?” Severus asked astutely.

“Got it in one,” Ron sighed. “Hey, um, Severus? Why do you have a picture of you with Draco Malfoy on your mantelpiece?”

 

Severus put down the plates he was holding and returned to the living room for the awkward moment. “He’s my godson,” he said quietly. “And colleague at work. They offered him the same ridiculous offer of sanctuary as they presented to me.”  
“Right.”

 

Severus noticed how the redhead’s back had stiffened since he had found the photograph. “If it helps, you can turn it to face the wall, I do that… sometimes I find his arrogant good looks and bloody perfect blonde hair far too much to handle when I roll out of bed in the morning looking like a mad banshee.”

 

Ron laughed then, his voice filling the room in rich waves. “You… gods.” He shook his head.

“What?” Severus asked curiously, moving forward and putting his hands on the back of the sofa.

“You’re just so… so much more confident here, Severus,” Ron waved a hand at the room. “I never really knew _just_ how much the brothel affected you and your nerves but coming here and seeing you in your home… you’re like a different person. You even move differently.”

“Probably to my detriment, as well, within the walls of this house I appear to be unable to control my bitter nature and general distaste of everything.”

 

“Well, I’ve not seen your bitter nature or general distaste yet,” Ron pointed out.

“I’m being nice. Get your boots off my rug, Weasley,” Severus turned and walked back into the kitchen, cursing his pedantic personality.

 

“There, better?” Ron appeared behind him a few minutes later in the kitchen minus his boots and having gained a bottle of wine. “I got this as requested.”  
“I wasn’t being serious,” Severus rolled his eyes.

“Yes you were, about the boots _and_ the wine,” Ron told him, setting the bottle down with a knowing smile. “So… what’s for dinner?”

“Not much,” Severus dismissed it but then he felt warm arms wrap around him from behind and lips kiss into his neck and he shivered all over.

 

_Nobody has ever been around to kiss me as I cooked. Ever. Oh, Merlin’s arse this was a bad idea._

“What?” Ron whispered, sensing the way he had tensed. “Is this… do you want me to stop?”

“No, I don’t want you to stop, that’s the problem,” Severus gave the pan of bolognese a stir and stared at it.

 

Ron didn’t move away but chose not to speak again either, and Severus wondered if their night had already taken a nosedive into a disaster. He turned down the heat on the other boiling pan and sighed.

  
“Would you like me to leave?” Ron asked gently, his face pressed into Severus’ dark hair.

 

_Washed especially for him. Severus, what’s that saying? No fool like an old fool…_

“Severus,” the word was a quiet rumble in his ear and it made him shiver again. “I don’t know what you expect from tonight, or why you really invited me here. But I have to admit I’m happy that you did.”

 

The arms gave him a tight squeeze and then they were gone, and he heard soft retreating footsteps to the living room, where Ron spoke to the cat.

 

He worked methodically, serving dinner and trying not to think too deeply about the evening ahead of them. If Ron was willing, Severus was ecstatic -not that he’d admit it.

 

“That smells _really_ good,” Ron commented, re-entering the kitchen with, Severus saw as he looked over the shoulder, the cat back in his arms. “Me and kitty are incredibly hungry.”

“Heh, kitty cannot handle cheese,” Severus admonished. “And her name is Artemis. But she never answers to it so you’ll find there’s little point in trying.”

“Artemis… goddess of hunting, right?” Ron asked with a grin.  
“Yes, after the finding the fifth half-chewed field mouse on the floor it seemed appropriate.”

 

Ron laughed. “God, I haven’t been around a cat since…” he trailed off.

“Since when?” Severus asked, rubbing parmesan over the cheese grater.

“Since Crookshanks,” Ron’s voice had quietened. “Hermione’s cat. I fucking hated that cat at first. I thought he ate my rat.”

“Who then turned out to be a man,” Severus pointed out.

“Yeah, stuff of nightmares, right, finding out that Peter Pettigrew’s probably seen your bits more often than you have?”

 

Severus turned around and looked at him, mid-grate, sending a shower of cheese onto the floor which Artemis immediately struggled to get to. Surprised at Ron’s strength and courage when faced with cat claws, he charmed the spilt cheese to fly into the bin and the cat huffed at her lost chance.

 

“Cats don’t eat cheese,” Severus muttered quietly and extended a finger with a tiny shaving on it, which she immediately licked off.

 

“Oh, well, if that’s just not the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ron snorted. “Who’d’ve thought it, eh, Severus Snape: Cat Lover.”  
“Shut up, Weasley,” Severus sniffed haughtily and turned back to the food. “This is ready. Put her down and let’s eat.”

 

Severus watched over his shoulder as the redhead ghosted a gentle kiss onto the cat’s head before placing her on the floor. Not sure which he was more shocked about –the fact Ron had done it, or the fact the cat had let him –Severus handed him a plate. “I don’t have a table, so sofa it is… which probably wasn’t smart when I cooked spaghetti…”

 

_Rambling awkwardly… this is why you’re not married. Or attached to anyone. Or even getting second looks._

“Its fine,” Ron flashed him a brilliant smile and turned away. “If you knew how long it had been since anybody cooked me dinner, Severus, you’d know I’m just grateful.”

“Well how long are we talking?” Severus asked, following him into the living room with his plate in one hand and his wand levitating wine and glasses with the other.

 

“None for me thanks,” Ron waved his hand when the wine began to pour.

“What?” Severus arched a disbelieving eyebrow.

“After the last time I’ve promised myself I won’t drink around you, Severus,” Ron answered him solemnly. “I don’t want you dealing with my night issues again. I don’t want you dealing with _any_ of my issues, but because I’m sitting in your living room with my boots off whilst your cat chews their laces, I think it might be a bit late for that one.”

 

“Bloody cat,” Severus sent a chasing gust of air out of his wand and stopped when he heard her angry hiss.

“You’re mean,” Ron laughed, and dug into his food.

 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, each of them making good headway into their meal.

 

“This is really good,” Ron said appreciatively. “You’re a good cook.”

“Well I would starve if I couldn’t feed myself.”

“Why don’t you have a house elf?” Ron asked quietly.

 

Severus looked at him. “You think I condone slavery?”

“I didn’t mean…” Ron faltered, a great nest of spaghetti falling off his fork back onto the plate. “I just thought… you were half-blood and a Slytherin so you might, but I get it. My family never had them either.”

 

With those words Severus lost his grip on his plate; luckily it landed the right way up in his lap with nothing spilt but he instantly knew he wouldn’t be able to cover up his lurch.

 

“What was that?” Ron looked at him curiously.

“I saw… well, at work today, one of your brothers dropped in.”

 

Ron choked on his mouthful and coughed ungracefully, leaving Severus cursing his awful timing as a lump of tomato and mince mixture flew through the air and landed on the carpet. Grabbing out for his wine Ron broke his no drinking rule in three gulps as he drained the glass. His face was beyond pale.

  
“You didn’t, Severus, please, you didn’t say anything?” He leapt forward in his seat, perched on the edge as though he were ready to bolt at any minute.

“I thought you trusted me?” Severus asked him quietly, fixing him with dark eyes. “This isn’t a trap, Ron; I didn’t say a word other than what was polite.”

 

Ron looked at him nervously but finally sat back. “Sorry for choking up on your carpet.”

“It needs a clean anyway,” Severus waved a hand and looked at him. “Your brother dropped by our office to put some paperwork in. And then at lunch, I saw him with your second oldest, Charlie?”

 

A frown marred the beautiful face as Ron thought. “What the hell was he doing there?”

“He was wearing robes, I think he might work there now?”

“Never,” Ron shook his head and ate another mouthful. “Charlie was born to work outside.”

“Well he was eating lunch in the food hall with everyone else… it really did look like he worked there,” Severus finished quietly, guiding spaghetti onto his fork.

  
“What were they talking about?” Ron asked, his eyes on his food.  
“I think they were talking about Christmas… I don’t think Charlie wanted to spend it with your mum and dad on his own with George and Percy. I think I’ve got all the names right.”

“Where’s Gin?” there was alarm in Ron’s voice.

“They said she was away,” Severus soothed him. “And anyway, she’ll be training for the Boxing Day match.”

 

“What do you mean?” Ron frowned.

“Quidditch,” Severus looked up at him and then his heart sunk when he realised that Ron didn’t know his little sister played for one of the best teams in the league. “Ginny plays for the Holyhead Harpies… she has for… well, the last four years, I think. She helps them win.”

 

“You’re joking, right?” Ron’s voice was hoarse and he abandoned his plate in his lap.

 

Severus shook his head silently, his hair swishing as he did so. “You… you played at school, I thought you would have known…”

“I stopped picking up the prophet,” Ron closed his eyes; Severus noticed his fists had clenched. “Because it was only telling me things I didn’t want to know… and I don’t listen to the games because the wireless signal in my flat is shite… just like everything else in it.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Severus sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but you caught me out and I... Ron?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, and then he exhaled, opened his eyes and picked up his plate again. “Did they look well?”

 

“Yes,” Severus assured him.

“Good,” Ron’s smile was genuine. “Did they talk about George at all? I’ve always wondered, after Fred…”

“They didn’t much, but from what I heard I don’t think he’s too well.”

“I know it was selfish to leave him,” Ron swirled food onto his fork. “I just…”

 

“You don’t have to explain your actions any further to me, Ron,” Severus reached for his wine, feeling like he’d need it if the night was going to continue down this vein. “Your decisions were your own regardless of whether I agree with where they’ve led you.”

“To a whorehouse and your bed,” Ron commented and shoved the forkful in, possibly to stop himself adding anything spiteful, Severus decided.

“Well, yes,” he conceded. “I make no concessions on my own part of this. I know I’m a hypocrite and I don’t need you to point it out.”

 

Ron fell silent at the remark and ate through his food without saying another word. When he was finished he got to his feet and took his plate into the kitchen, leaving Severus behind on the sofa wondering if he could get away with a joke about how well-trained Ron appeared to be.

 

“Thank you for dinner, it was nice,” the low voice spoke again as Ron lowered himself back down on the sofa and picked up his re-filled wine.

“You’re welcome, and you’re not done yet,” Severus jerked his head at the kitchen. “You still have pudding to go yet.”

“Are you on a mission to feed me up whilst you’ve got me?” Ron smirked at him.

“Yes,” Severus answered honestly, setting his own empty plate on the coffee table. “That is _exactly_ my plan.”

“Ah, don’t do that, I’ll lose all my clients if I put on weight.”  
“Are you being serious?” Severus asked, aghast.

“Have _you_ ever seen a fat rentboy in there?” Ron raised an eyebrow.

“You would have to put on several stones before you even reached the land of ‘well-built’, Ron…”

 

“Still, I won’t take any chances,” Ron shrugged.

 

Severus scowled into his glass of wine.

 

“What?” Ron asked him exasperatedly.

“I don’t see why you don’t just quit and go and get yourself a normal job which doesn’t risk your life every night in the muggle world,” Severus kept his eyes on the white liquid in the glass.

“Because they don’t pay as well as what I do,” Ron shrugged.

“But you never get to spend your money because you work every night,” Severus shot at him. “Unless you spend the night with them and get the next day off, of course… I presume that’s how you’re here? What time did you get in this morning?”

 

“Look, Severus, can we not to do this?” Ron pleaded. “You have no right to ask this stuff, no right to judge it. Just let me be, please?”

 

“No,” Severus’ temper snapped. “I’ve thought about you all day, wondering how last night went, if you were alright, if he was good to you… and that is _so_ unbelievably preposterous, Ron, I’m not man that _cares._ I’m not!”

 

He got to his feet and grabbed his plate, marching it to the sink where he set it down with a louder bang than would generally have been considered necessary. Bracing his hands against the metal basin he let his head drop down so that he could feel the muscles stretching. He jumped when suddenly there were warm hands caressing them.

 

“I can’t stop,” Ron told him. “And I don’t want to, Severus.”

“Do you enjoy it?” Severus demanded, keeping his head down.

“No,” Ron answered truthfully. “Most of the time I go to work thinking if I look at one more cock or see one more hairy fucking arse I’m going to go mad.”  
“So why do it?” Severus whirled around and dislodged the heavenly hands. “There are other ways you could have chosen to take your penance, Ron, you could have… I don’t know, become a do-gooder and helped the homeless or something supposedly satisfying like that! Why did you have to give yourself up to being nothing more than someone’s weekly fuck?”

 

“Is that all I am to you?” Ron asked softly, though there was no accusation in his face.

“No,” Severus muttered, somewhat bitterly. “No, you’re fast becoming much more.”

 

Ron stepped closer then so that their noses touched. “I can’t be that, Severus. I can’t be more than that. You pay, we fuck. That’s it. That’s all it can be.”

“Why, because you think that somehow chasing everyone away and going it alone will make the pain go away?” Severus narrowed his eyes. “You think that being alone makes it _better_ , what happened?”

 

There was no answer and sapphire eyes were shuttered away behind slightly lilac coloured eyelids. Severus looked at the way the redhead was holding himself then, and it seemed as though he were making a great effort to stand. Surreptitiously, whilst the man’s eyes were closed, he took a long look at his skin, looking for signs of abuse. He could only see Ron’s face, neck and forearms, but there was nothing.

 

Sighing, he chased it away, knowing if he asked the redhead would only get confrontational. So instead he placed gentle hands on slender hips and pulled him closer.

 

“If you really want to go, Ron, please do. I won’t be offended. I understand that asking you here tonight has jeopardised your job and I respect your decision if you want to go home. And if you want me to cancel my Christmas slot, I will.”

 

Ron opened his eyes then, and they were obviously confused. “I assumed you’d cancel that anyway,” he frowned.

“Why?”

“Because I… I could just come here, and I’d make sure my man on Christmas Eve stayed the night so I wouldn’t have to work.”

  
“Come hell or high water, Weasley, I will be with you on Christmas night in that godawful little room,” Severus hissed at him in a tone which made the blue eyes widen. “Do you understand me?”

 

Ron shifted his weight uncomfortably. “The money, Severus, it’s so much, it must be bleeding you dry…”

“Let me worry about the money,” Severus brushed some hair away from Ron’s eyes and tilted his head to observe him properly. “I want to be with you, make the miserable day better, somehow.”

 

“Severus, I don’t understand you,” Ron said quietly, closing his eyes again. “You don’t… when you’re there, you’re a nervous wreck. You look like you’re about to break down half the time. And yet you’re crawling back for more torture.”

“Well maybe I am simply rather partial to my torturer?” Severus pointed out.

“You shouldn’t be,” Ron shook his head. “No good will come of it.”

 

“You say that but you haven’t tasted dessert yet.”

 

Severus took heart in the very small twitch of Ron’s lips that comment drew out.

 

“You are _so_ different here,” Ron sighed. “I can’t get over it. Yeah you’re a snarky bastard but you’re also quite… funny… and you have a cat… and a great house…”

“Oh, stop, you’ll give me a heart attack from all the energy expended with the sarcastic eye rolls you’re earning from this ridiculous speech.”

“As unable to take a compliment as ever, though,” Ron snorted, and then he laughed properly again. “Why don’t you serve this mystery afters, then, whilst I use your loo?”

 

“Are you going to throw your dinner up or something tragic like that?” Severus raised an eyebrow calculatively. “Because I stood there and cooked it, so it would be rude to throw it up merely to maintain your figure, Weasley.”

“You think I’ve got an eating disorder?” Ron laughed.  
“I _know_ you do,” Severus rolled his eyes. “Maybe not in the normal manifestation, but you definitely have one.”

“And what exactly is this mystery eating problem?” Ron asked indignantly.  
“That you don’t do it,” Severus said simply. “Starving yourself is just another form of punishment. You think you can’t be bothered to eat, and you feed yourself that lie. But really you’re just hurting yourself.” He looked Ron in the eye for his last sentence. “And you know it.”

 

Severus wasn’t quite sure what the redhead was going to do then –he knew his own reaction to such a mental dressing-down would probably have involved his fist, and maybe once upon a time Ron’s would have too. But Ron simply sighed, let his head roll down and he reached back and rubbed at the nape of his neck.

 

“You’re right,” he said in a desolate voice. “Totally right, Severus. As I’ve said before, too astute for your own good. And it won’t do you any favours.”

 

“No, but this cheesecake will do you some, so go to the toilet and come back again,” Severus refused to travel the road any further.

 

_What are you doing, Severus? He’s so broken… he will never heal. He doesn’t want to heal. He just doesn’t care and you’re won’t make him._

 

Ron stepped away with a fleeting smile and Severus chased the discouraging thoughts out of his mind, reaching for the muggle fridge he kept in operation. The house had been muggle and he’d had to pay an extortionate amount for an electrician to sort out the wiring, but over all it worked out cheaper than a constant supply of candles. And there was something about his light dimmer switch that he liked very much.

 

“That’s not a cheesecake, that’s a giant monster cheesecake, surely?”

 

Severus suddenly realised he’d never quite gotten past scooping some of the topping off with his finger and staring somewhat mawkishly out of the window as he ate it. He flushed at being caught.

 

“Well, if you’re doing it,” Ron muttered and reached around him, dragging his finger along the edge and raising it to his lips. “Ohhhh godddddddd. Christ. Did you make that?”

“Fuck no,” Severus snorted, language falling to pot with the need for more delicious dessert. “I ordered it from Diagon Alley after I knew you were coming and before Draco got back to harangue me into sharing.”

 

“I can’t believe you work with him,” Ron said with raised eyebrows, taking another scoop.

“Neither can I, most days he drives me to insanity and makes me want to throw myself off the top of the building.”

“Well, it’s good to know that not all of my assumptions from school have been proved wrong,” Ron laughed. “Because my ones concerning you certainly were.”

 

“As were mine about you,” Severus gave him a curt nod.

“Yeah but that’s only ‘cause you found me working in a whorehouse,” Ron dismissed, dragging another finger through and raising it to Severus’ lips.

“Are you serious?” Severus asked him with a sceptical face.

 

“Juuust lick it,” Ron chided with an eye roll. “I washed my hands in the loo and plus, you’ve licked a lot worse than my finger.”

 

Severus couldn’t help his dirty smirk as he extended his tongue and curled the deliciously creamy gooey mixture off Ron’s finger until it was clean.

 

“No,” Ron dug another into the cheesecake –which was becoming vastly disfigured by that point, Severus realised, and then raised it again. “You have to suck it off to get it properly, Severus…”

 

Shooting him an amused glance with darkened eyes, Severus sealed his lips around the finger and sucked, letting his tongue bat at the end of it. He wondered if Ron even knew he was biting into his lip with anticipation.

 

“Better?” He released the glistening digit.

“Much,” Ron smirked. “I think of somewhere else you could lick it off, if you wanted…”

 

He cast an eye back to the sofa and cocked his head in invitation.

 

Severus swallowed. “No,” he grabbed Ron’s hand and tugged him until he was able to push him down on the sofa.

 

Ron landed with a loud exhale of air and didn’t have the energy to protest when Severus undid the fly of his jeans, pushed up the untucked shirt he’d been wearing, and then shoved his hand down into his underwear.

 

Severus curled his fingers around what he was delighted to find was a fast growing erection. He took the initiative and leant in to give the redhead a kiss, moaning when he moaned at the taste of lingering cheesecake in each other’s mouths.

 

“Fuck, Severus… dinner… cheesecake… ahhh!” his hips bucked a little as Severus formed a tight ring around him with his thumb and middle finger and ran long luxurious strokes up and down his shaft.

 

“Nothing more than is polite to offer one’s guest,” Severus replied with a wicked grin, and kissed him again, looping his free arm around Ron’s neck and holding him in place when the hand settled down on his shoulder. “Hands by your sides,” he commanded in a whisper.

 

Ron looked at him with bright eyes before complying, choosing to grab hold of the seat cushion on either side of his thighs.

 

“You’re very obedient, I’m impressed,” Severus whispered hotly into his ear, before kissing the shell and speeding up his strokes.

 

Severus watched as the redhead seemed to melt back into the sofa, his legs spread wide with his feet flat on the floor as Severus worked with his hand inside his trousers. It painted an almost innocent picture of exploration which was so different to their usual exploits that he couldn’t help but decide to prolong it. He slowed right down and finally released the ring he’d formed, before creeping his fingers south to massage lightly at the balls neatly compacted by Ron’s underwear.

 

“Ohhh so good…” Ron moaned, his body slipping so much that his head rolled into Severus’ armpit as he lounged. For Severus it only reinforced the beauty.

 

Sitting there like that, he finally felt that he was giving the redhead something back, something warm and hot-blooded. Something that _didn’t_ equate overall to his own pleasure. The mewling stepped up a notch when he skilfully managed to tilt his wrist to cup the sac in the palm of his hand and he weighed the lopsided weight there.

 

“How are you doing that?” Ron breathed.

“Doing what?” Severus murmured down, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Making me want to come just from juggling my balls about,” Ron arched up with want.

“I’m talented,” Severus smirked and released what he held, making his fingers wriggle even further down to tickle lightly at the sensitive skin beyond.

 

The redhead writhed with another moan, and then he thrust his own hand into his trousers and grabbed his cock, wrangling it upright to work faster than Severus had. With fascination Severus watched him wank himself whilst he set his own hand to cupping again, pulling gently every so often and noticing how Ron’s groans grew louder when he did.

 

“Harder,” he suddenly growled, and Severus complied, wishing he could touch himself whilst watching the sensual show of self-satisfaction before his eyes.

“Ohhh fuck yes… more… harder, come on… _harder_ …”

 

Severus was sure he had surpassed what must have been comfortable but from what he could see Ron was only getting closer and closer to orgasm and the hand on his erection yanked more roughly with every pull.

  
“Fuck yes,” he moaned; his head lolling back with abandon. “God, Severus, yes… oh… fuck… fuck… FUCKITOHFUCK!”

 

Severus didn’t know where to look, at his face, contorting with desire and need, or down in his crotch where the long fingers had fisted and Ron was milking himself through his own orgasm. Sent rigid by the hedonistic view, he couldn’t even really blink, let alone free the testicles still held in the palm of his hand. They cooled against his skin, dilating back out and relaxing. With an odd thought in his frozen state, he realised that he was holding on to another man’s balls in the middle of his living room.

 

 _Your timing as ever, so well placed for an obvious revelation!_ Severus was even laughing at himself and he turned back to Ron, who had his eyes shut and couldn’t see the smile on Severus’ thin lips.

 

“Fucking hell… Dinner… wine…cheesecake…you doing _that_ to my sac… Christ, I’ll come back more often.”

“You can add ‘watching me wank off’ to my pages in your book,” Severus advised.

“Really?” Ron turned to him, eyes twinkling with badly concealed flirt.

“Definitely,” Severus murmured, and bent his head to capture reddened lips –he realised Ron must have been biting them.

“I wonder if you’d let me watch you?” Ron raised a sultry eyebrow.

 

Severus coloured then and swallowed nervously. “I’ve never…”

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to be reporting to the press on flawless technique,” Ron kissed him gently. “You never know, you might like it.”

 

“I can think of something I’d like a whole lot more,” Severus finally extracted his hand and ran his fingers through the mess Ron had created on his stomach and raised them to the redhead’s lips. “Lick.”

 

Ron followed his command with unflinching obedience and cleaned his own come off the fingers.

 

Severus moved his mouth to Ron’s ear and spoke straight into it with hot breath and a deep, rumbling voice, “I’d like to slather that cheesecake all over you: on your cock, in your crack, on your balls… and lick it off. And then I want you to return the favour.”

 

Ron shuddered in his arms. “Fuck, Severus.”

“Maybe, if we’re still standing.”

 

He crashed his mouth to Ron’s, feeling the power of confidence burning through his veins.

 

“Mmmpfh, so good… oh… fuck… get the cheesecake, Severus.”


	4. Chapter 4

Severus walked quietly through the snow, hardly paying attention where he was going. The destination was so firmly imprinted in his mind that he didn’t even need to visualise his route, his feet simply took him there. It left his mind free to consider what he had scarcely been able to forget since the event had occurred.

 

 _God, nobody should look like that covered in dessert… or taste that delectable…_ In his mind’s eye he saw the long and ever-thin body stretched out on his floor in front of the fire, an accompanying mouth open with pleasure as the mixture was licked from the creamy flesh adorning the frame.

 

 _Funny how I should know the body of a man so intimately and yet I don’t even know his middle name…_ The thought was unwelcome and he was surprised at the ease with which he chased it away. Even the tread of his feet didn’t seem as desolate as it usually did as he walked through the dark, quiet yuletide streets in search of his paradise.

 

 _Because that’s not melodramatic at all…_ Severus didn’t know what else to be when confronted with the incredibly lucid memory of the fact his first foray into rimming had involved a large quantity of cheesecake and how very much he had enjoyed it.

 

He buried his hands deeper inside the pockets of the muggle coat he wore, keeping his eyes down on the cobbles as he silently walked along them. He was cold but for some reason which he didn’t care to examine for want of finding himself utterly absurd, it didn’t really register. His mind replayed a scene and Severus made no effort to stop it.

 

_“What do you mean; you’ve not had a bath in five years?”_

_“My flat doesn’t have one,” Ron said with an eye roll. “Just a shower…”_

_Severus smoothed one hand down the naked back and cupped at the protruding globes at the base._

_“Well then…my wish is your command, I suppose.”_

_“My wish,” Ron answered provocatively, wrapping his arms around Severus in turn, “Is for you to join me?”_

The memory skipped forward then in the eternal viewer of his mind and a minute smile crept over his lips. He was so wrapped up in the recollection he didn’t appreciate that it was the first time he had ever done such a thing en route to the brothel.

 

_“Gods, so warm,” the redhead groaned, stretching out and sinking as far down into the water as he could manage, not finding it too hard on account of his slender nature. His entire body was submersed, right up to his earlobes, his hair looking dip dyed in a stunning two-tone of dry fire and wet deepest auburn._

_“That is generally the purpose of hot water, yes, to be warm,” Severus smirked at him, from the opposite end of the bath, trying to throw up his sarcasm to mask the fact that it was the first time in his life he had ever shared a bath with a lover, and he was rather aglow at the fact._

_“Shut up and let me enjoy this,” Ron smiled, his eyes closed with a happy sigh._

_Severus watched. They’d had enough sex; after the cheesecake was suitably disfigured, the entire bottle of wine drunk and enough of both accidentally smushed into the rug, they were plenty sated. And so he simply watched the peace steal across pale features, flushed in the apples of the cheeks by the gloriously hot water. He sank down further himself, hoping to achieve even just a sliver of the serenity the redhead seemed to have attained, but he found he could not arrange himself comfortably without nudging him. So Severus returned to his first position, his skin screaming as the cold air of the bathroom replaced the heated blanket which it had so briefly been blessed with. He looked, as a distraction, at the body he could see sporadically through the bubbles in the water. Despite the man’s thinness, there was tone and muscle, especially in his arms, his stomach like a washboard nestled between obscenely slender hips. The thin line of red hair trailing down from his navel to the wider patch of curls at his groin kept Severus’ dark eyes hooked as he gently guided the bubbles out of the way to see more. The redhead’s eyes opened._

_“You know, you don’t have to be so sneaky about it if you want to cop a look, Severus…” he raised an eyebrow, before ducking down and throwing his head under the water, emerging seconds later with rivulets pouring off his thick hair._

_Momentarily stunned, Severus simply stared before he could shepherd his words into form. “Men gawk at you like a piece of meat every night… I thought you might appreciate the subtle approach...”_

_Something flashed in the sapphire eyes and Severus would have given almost anything to know exactly what. But then it was gone, the blush on Ron’s cheeks deepened, and he gave Severus a small but ultimately grateful smile._

He was dragged from the heating memory by the fact he turned into the lane which contained the man who he was counting on to make his miserable Christmas day better. He had spent it alone, rejecting Draco’s request for his company, preferring to curl up with the cat and read, spurning the radio due to the inane Christmas cheer that insisted on pumping through it. Severus knew, as he moved closer, that it had all been an act, a stopgap until he could reach what he _really_ wanted.

 

And what Severus also knew was how much he had agonised over that fact since he had seen Ron last. The redhead had departed the morning after with a surprisingly warm kiss and embrace. Severus had stood at the door and watched him down to the gate in the weak winter sunlight drenching the fields surrounding his cottage. Both of them had smelt the snow in the air, not that they bothered to comment on it. With gentle nod of his head, Ron had turned into the spot and popped away, leaving Severus leaning with a slight shiver against the doorframe, looking at the devoid patch of road where he had disappeared. It had taken the cat to meow and complain about the cold before Severus returned to his senses and re-entered the house.

 

_Which felt inexplicably empty and cold without him, which is absolutely idiotic._

Severus neared the steps to the brothel and was about to set foot on them, waiting for the usual slam of self-loathing, but found it neglected to come. What did, however, was a barrelling dark form through the door, and Severus only just threw himself to the side in time to prevent a collision. The figure paid him no heed and all but jumped from three steps up. Turning slightly, Severus caught a whiff of rose and vanilla on the air and stared at the retreating back. A secondary wave of scent washed over him then and his lips turned into a frown, unable to place the unpleasant odour. He made his way up the steps and slipped inside as quietly as he ever had, but he found himself unable to bear the thought of having to clear his arrival with the witch at the desk.

 

He raised his eyes and looked at her. She fixed him with a false smile before speaking.

 

“You can head up, he’s free now,” her voice was as polite as ever.

 

_So it fucking ought to be with what I’m paying her for this, supercilious bitch._

Thinking of which he reached into his pocket and set down the galleon sack on the counter and turned without another word, heading for the stairs. He found, once again, that the usual battering of hatred did not come, and the guilt he felt at paying for the redhead’s services was absent.

 

_Because the other night you gave him peace and not a knut was exchanged? God, Severus, how easily your conscience can be placated these days…_

Severus thought on that as he turned onto the second flight of steps. Was his conscience settled by the fact that what they were sharing, at least on his behalf, appeared to be evolving into something more than a man visiting a whore? A shiver ran down Severus’ spine at the word and was glad to see that his loathing of referring to Ron’s official title hadn’t changed.

 

_And he **is** a whore, you cannot deny that fact… the sling of his hips, the way he walks, the way he positions a glass in his hands… whoever trained him, trained him well._

Severus had never thought on that much. Ron had told him that his dancer friend had showed him the ropes but never elaborated on his past. He didn’t blame him –Severus wasn’t sure he would be willing to share such information, surely wrought with embarrassment and depravation, either.

 

He levelled onto the top landing and sped up, his heart quickening with an excitement which should have made him feel disgusted with himself. Even as he tried to force some hatred through his veins, Severus found that he could not. He couldn’t make himself resent his entry into the whorehouse, not when he knew what waited for him, the night of pleasure and warmth.

 

Approaching the door, Severus noticed that it was slightly ajar and a mental frown cut through his enthusiasm. It had never been open before. The skin of his fingertips graced the doorknob and the wood pushed back easily, but before he had even crossed the threshold with the rest of his body, Severus knew something was wrong.

 

The scent of the room was out of place. He found himself trying not to breathe it in as he recognised the indistinguishable odour he had smelt coming off the retreating figure outside, mingled in with the beautiful blend he had come to associate solely with Ron. His eyes flew around, looking for the occupant of the dreary room. His stomach turned when he saw him.

 

It wasn’t the fact that Ron was on the bed on his entry which set his teeth on edge. It wasn’t that the room stank of sex, meaning that the redhead had not, for whatever reason, performed his usual handy spellwork between clients. No, what had Severus propelling himself into the room, not caring whether the door shut behind him, was the pained slump of the figure on the bed, and the way the usually white sheets where splotched with hideous crimson in more places than he cared to count.

 

He found himself at the side of the bed before he had thought any more, and he took in the trembling limbs, bleached skin somehow covered with the black robe he hated.

 

“I-I’m f-fine,” were the first words out of Ron’s mouth, but he didn’t lift his eyes from where he had fixed them on the mattress.

 

Severus took in the wand clenched in his hand, the way the robe was barely onto his shoulders. Now that he had the visual proof he knew the coppery scent in the air, on the departing man, was blood.

 

He waited for the fury. He waited for the need to reap vengeance to curl through his veins and take hold and possess him. But all he had were hard breaths and clenching fingers.

 

“What did he do?” he ground out.

“Nothing,” Ron answered defiantly, and lifted his head a little.

“It hardly looks like nothing,” Severus sprang to life and managed to rip open the robe so that he could assess the damage.

 

And what damage he saw made his gut turn to ice. Bruises were already forming over the skin of Ron’s torso and stomach. Severus reached out cold fingers and pried his chin up, revealing a bleeding nose, battered face and heavy winces with the forced movement.

 

Severus had been waiting for the anger. What he had not been expecting was to be thrown headfirst into painful recollections he had fought to eviscerate from his memory for five years. Images flashed through his mind’s eye of bashed bodies, the stench of blood, sweat and abuse, the awful artwork made on stone floors from leftover crimson pools before they were cleaned away.

 

The memories assaulted him and he was highly surprised when he felt his legs weaken and his hand, still holding up Ron’s chin, begin to tremble.

 

Ron moved then and Severus instinctively stepped back, watching in disbelief as he staggered to his feet, limbs tight with pain, and clutched onto one of the bedposts.

 

“This is… horrific,” was all Severus could really say, still confused by his lack of rage. “You… you need to lie down, Ron, and we-”

“No,” the voice was steely and unnervingly determined. “No, just give me a minute, Severus, and I’ll be with you.”

“You can’t be serious?” Severus heard his own voice escalate to a terrified gasp. “You can’t mean to work like this?”

“I can,” Ron’s voice was gravelly and weak, but when he raised his head the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes was firm.

“Well not with me you won’t,” Severus declared flatly, one of his hands coming out to make a gesture which clearly indicated that there was no deal. “No. Sit down, I’m going to go downstairs and sort this out and then I’m taking you home.”

 

If Severus had been shocked by the display of Ron’s strength up until that point it was inconsequential compared to his dismay when the redhead reacted to the last part of the sentence.

 

The slender body forced upright and fists clenched tightly by his side. The words, when they came, were almost a shout. “No. Shut the door, Severus, give me five minutes and then I’ll give you the fuck you paid for. _Don’t_ argue!”

 

“Don’t argue?” Severus spluttered. “Are you fucking mad? You’ve been beaten to a bloody pulp and all you can think of is that you want to work?”

 

He made for the door and actually gasped when an iron tight grip landed around his upper arm and the pain made his eyes sting. Severus turned and saw the desperation written all over the pale, broken face and he tried hard to think of what motive Ron could possibly have for stopping him, for wanting to pleasure another man that night.

 

The grip didn’t lessen when Ron staggered, shaking his head and clearly trying to fight off the fog of unconsciousness. He convulsively swallowed a few times and blinked, as if attempting to rid an image hovering before his eyes. Severus saw Ron’s breathing become steadily shallower and was appalled to see even more colour draining out of the man’s skin, when he thought there had been none left.

 

“Ron, you need to lie down,” he tried in a soothing, persuasive tone. “And you need to go home for the night.”

“No,” Ron spoke, looking to the side, and at first Severus thought it was just a standard rejection. But then Ron spoke again and the rest of Severus’ innards joined his stomach in an ice bath. “Harry, I’m not going with him.”

 

“ _What_ did you just say?” his eyes searched wildly over Ron’s face, but the eyes were pointed off elsewhere, to the space where they had often kissed goodbye, to the space where Severus had found Ron dancing strangely with his friend. _Maybe the place where that piece of shit did this to him._

 

“C-Can’t you see him?” Severus could see the fluttering of Ron’s eyelashes as he blinked. “Harry’s right there… he’s… telling me to…”

“What’s he telling you to do?” Severus changed his tack, noticing how the grip on his arm slackened slightly. If Ron was hallucinating then he was close to passing out, and if the Harry he was seeing was telling him to go home, then maybe it could be used to an advantage.

“T-Telling me to trust you and go with you, but I can’t,” the eyes closed then, and Ron’s body swayed.

 

Severus caught it almost gracefully, as though the arc of his form through the air was planned. He tried not to think of what damage he could be doing to Ron internally as he fought to get him horizontal on the bed, flailing limp limbs proving a hindrance considering Ron’s height. His body spilled onto the mattress, one arm flung wide and the robe parted. Severus couldn’t believe the pain that Ron must have gone through to obtain all of the injuries. Bending his head, Severus detected shallow breathing swallowed the tiny amount of relief that gave him.

 

The stench of the room was becoming overpowering, even though he knew that it only smelt as horrific to him because of his past, and because of the burgeoning feelings he harboured for the victim on the bed.

 

Pulling out his wand, Severus knew what he was about to perform was a gross invasion of privacy, but he simply had to know. He was suddenly driven by his thirst for knowledge and it was with that need pulsing through his veins that he aimed the wand at the pitiful body and muttered, “Legilimens.”

 

There was no resistance from the tired mind and Severus closed his eyes as the man’s thoughts flooded his brain. He tried respectfully to simply hunt for the thoughts he needed, suspecting that they would not be far from the surface. No matter how many times he had ploughed through the morass of other people’s memories, Severus had never liked the sensation it evoked, the way it made his head swim with the converging information or the guilt he felt at invading so brutally.

 

He felt pain then and stopped to grab the nearest image and flinched when he found exactly what he had been looking for. Severus fought down the wave of nausea at the scene as clear as a muggle television in his mind; he couldn’t afford to jerk out of the damaged mind so roughly to take care of physical reactions. He forced himself to pay attention as he saw blows fall repeatedly and hard. He saw his warm, sensual whore be thrown to the floorboards and kicked mercilessly in the gut. A flash of silver and he saw the knife, explaining the blood. Only then, when the sharp edge penetrated, did he realise that Ron’s mouth was open, he was clearly screaming… but he was not, because there was no sound except from the man hurting him.

 

Unable to stand any more, Severus pushed out of the redhead’s mind and staggered against the wall, his wand dropping out of his hand with a loud rattle as it landed on the floor.

 

He had never been able to mentally cope with the Dark Lord’s love of torture and brutal punishment, even more so when it was teamed with sexual abuse, though he sat and watched it because he was expected to. But he realised that through all of that, the man he had considered to be a demon had left his victims with a voice. Severus couldn’t bear the cacophony of screaming when he was there. But what he had just seen –the victimisation of someone who had had the ability of speech ripped from them, their ability to protest; he realised he had stumbled upon a different level of terror and cruelty committed by someone who found the actual inflicting of damage the main event, rather than the terrified screams.

 

His eyes drifted to the body slumped on the bed and immediately stooped for his wand again, springing to life and thriving on his need to heal. His healing skills had always been sufficiently high and he cast the first diagnostic, the one to check for internal bleeding, without even really thinking about it. The haze poured from his wand and settled over Ron’s body, the magic working whilst Severus thought on his next actions.

 

_Well, clearly he cannot remain here. He needs rest and more medical attention… I should take him to the hospital but under the circumstances…_

The haze remained green and Severus was shocked, the blows had looked firm and absolute in Ron’s memory, enough to severely damage. They certainly looked as though they had caused enough pain to rupture organs. His eyes fell over the scar he’d not noticed before, jagged and long over one hip. He choked back more vomit when he realised that the blade had probably connected to bone and that Ron must have managed to heal it in the changeover period between his clients.

 

And then the old emotion that Severus had been waiting for, that he’d felt almost adrift _without_ , stole over his body. Anger caused him to grip the handle of his wand so tightly it creaked beneath his fingers and his lips curled into a sneer. Without another thought for Ron’s words, his protests, he stormed from the room, marshalling his vocabulary into the best battalion he could.

 

He was making too much noise, he knew, as his feet clattered down the stairs of the establishment, knowing that he might disturb the men working but not caring one iota. Severus landed in the lobby in what might have been record time, even compared to the days where he was so ashamed he left at almost a run. Taking a deep breath he reached up and tucked one side of his hair behind his ear and moved to the woman at the desk who looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly.

  
“Is there a problem, sir?”

“Yes, I’d say there’s a sizable problem in the fact that the previous client has abused my-” he faltered, not knowing what to call Ron and unable to say the word ‘whore’. “Abused _your_ employee to the point where he has passed out.”

 

The witch’s face coloured red, Severus saw her eyes darken. “What’s happened?”

“Maltreatment in the form of punching, kicking, knifing and what I assume was raping by the end,” he glared at her, not exactly knowing why he was acting so hostilely when he had no idea of what would happen next.

 

Perhaps he had subconsciously sensed her reaction.

 

“I’ll kill him,” she hissed.

“What?” Severus demanded. “You mean you’d chase down a-”

“I mean _him_ ,” she growled, chucking her head up at the ceiling. “Enough is enough.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

 

The woman moved around the high counter faster than he had anticipated, and she darted past him, moving for the stairs.

 

“Enough is e- _fucking-_ nough,” she snarled, and he saw the wand rip out of her robes and was doused with horror that Ron’s reluctance was more deep-seated than Severus had had the intelligence to realise, and with very good reason. “I gave him one more chance,” the woman was almost yelling with her anger. “I can’t have this when the Ministry are sniffing around, I can’t have a fucking murder on my hands!”

 

Her feet were thudding on the stairs and panic gripped him then, but before he moved to chase after her, his eyes caught the night’s client sheet on the lowered part of the counter. He knew not to touch –Ron had explained how everything was charmed to combust if anyone other than staff touched it- but his eyes gave him the information he needed to know. He located Ron’s sordid little slice of the sheet, and locked the name written above his own slightly fraudulent alias, struck through on the man’s departure but still recognisable, into his mind.

 

And then Severus turned and ran hell for leather back up the stairs, his speed shocking him despite his age. It had been five years since he’d had the need to properly run and he couldn’t quite believe that he still had all of his breath when he arrived on the second landing, just in time to hear the door of Ron’s room smack back into the wall. He saw unassuming blue robes whipping through the doorframe.

 

“I’ve had enough!” he heard the shriek. “I want you out, you’re sacked!”

 

He clipped the edge of the frame as he darted into the room, his shoulder groused at the pain.

 

“P-Please,” Ron’s voice was strained and full of begging which was horrendous to observe. “I’m sorry… I tried but he…”

 

“Removed his voice and I assume his wand,” Severus filled in and the woman jumped and looked at him, clearly shocked to find that he had followed her back up the stairs.

 

“Sir, please wait downstairs and I will find someone else to attend to you,” she tried to force graciousness into her tone but completely failed, due to the fury on her face directed at the redhead.

“I do not want anybody further to _‘attend’_ to me,” he informed her in an icy tone, taking a step closer to the bed, his fingers tightening on his wand. “What I _want_ is for this young man to be safe.”

“Why?” The blunt question tumbled from her lips before she could stop it. “He’s a suicidal little prick who does this for fun.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Severus replied with eerie calm.

“And what would you know about it?” Her eyes glittered as they flicked over him, and then back to Ron on the bed, who was blearily watching the exchange.

 

“I know enough.”

“And more reasons to get rid of you keep crawling out of the woodwork,” she erupted, her hands thrown up in the air. “I thought there was something odd going on for him to keep coming back so frequently. Well, carrying on with clients out of hours is a breach of your contract. Get out.”

 

“No, I can’t leave,” Ron groaned pathetically. “Don’t…”  
“OUT.”

 

Severus was momentarily stunned by the sheer volume which poured out of the petite figure, by the anger ripping up her features. Once he was past his dismay, though, he quickly noticed that she had trained her wand on the redhead.

  
“I suggest you desist,” Severus forced his voice to a low threat and raised his own.

“Don’t be a fool,” she laughed suddenly, throwing her head back and shaking it in disbelief. “What’s he told you, hmm? That you’re the only one he cares about, that he’s in _love_ with you? A load of bollocks, I’m afraid, and if your sort of intelligence level is all that’s needed for Ministry job these days, I’m worried.”

“Shut your mouth,” Severus hissed and advanced on her, his wand firmly pointed in front of him. “You have absolutely no right to comment on the intellectual state of the government when you stand there borne by filthy money you earn from whoring humanity. If the Ministry fails on intelligence, you fall at the first hurdle on morals.”

“And yet, you’ve been on my books for four years,” she threw at him with malice in her eyes. “Four years of secret visits, and when your first whore killed himself, you bounced onto the next without a bat of an eyelid… hmm… what does it say about you, and your morals, _Sir?”_

 

“Severus, please…” Ron’s voice was a whisper, but Severus ignored him.

 

“Those actions may not imply the best of my nature,” he answered her coolly. “But this will. You are going to go downstairs, and you’re going to collect everything you owe this man in payment. And then you’re going to bring it up here and give it to _me._ ”

“What makes you think I owe him anything?”

“Call it intuition; I’ve worked with your kind long enough to know how you function. How many months of pay do you owe him?”

 

Severus was, as he had done with Ron those times alone in the bedroom they currently stood in, playing on a whim. He only had select information from Ron, but guessed from the state of his flat, the lack of food and more that the so-called monetary benefits of his job were only there when his employer decided to pass them on. It made Severus sick to his stomach, considering what he had paid for that night alone would probably have kept the man in rent, bills and food for a month.

 

“What else has he told you?” Her face was cold and slightly ashen.

“More than enough to present a decent case to the Ministry,” Severus threateningly arched an eyebrow. “And, if you don’t leave to do as I request within ten seconds of me finishing this sentence, come the morning of the twenty-seventh there will be a sizable report, with evidence, sitting on a very important member of the Ministry’s desk.”

 

“Blackmail?” She stared at him defiantly, though her resolve was weakening and Severus knew it, from the slackening of her mouth.

“I never said that _everything_ I did here tonight would illustrate the best of me,” he tilted his chin up.

 

He could see her mind working through her options, even her eyes sizing him up. Severus wondered if she was thinking on if the other men working for her there would come to her defence if he attacked her. Perhaps she realised they would not, as she swallowed hard, and without another word strode from the room.

 

Severus kept his grip tight on his wand and kept his eyes on the door.

 

“Why?” the wail from the bed was hollow. “Why, Severus, why did you fucking do that?”

 

The latter half of the question was choked with tears and he had to steel himself against them.

 

“Were you hurt more tonight because the man couldn’t have my slot?” Severus asked loudly, without turning around. “Was this the man that had you the other night and paid more than me for the privilege?”

“Severus…”

“TELL ME!” His own voice rose to a shout, rather rage-free compared to how they both knew he could usually bellow, but still enough to frighten Ron into answering.

“Yeah… he was… mad…”

 

_Understatement of the sodding year, Weasley. Sweet fucking Circe’s tits._

“Where are your things?” he asked stiffly, looking around.

“Dresser,” Ron’s voice grew faint again and when Severus directed the clothing onto his body with his wand, the sapphire eyes were hidden tightly away. “My bag is…”

 

Severus looked around and saw it stowed carefully beneath the little table. He snatched up Ron’s cigarettes and match box and placed them in the bag as he picked it up. Looking down into the dark material he saw something which looked like wrapping paper. Frowning, but not having any more time to investigate due to the footsteps on the landing, he placed the bag on the bed and raised his wand at the open door. But the figure that peered around the frame was not the sour faced witch who owned the brothel, but a man who looked even younger than Ron, with blonde hair and grey eyes. He reminded Severus starkly of Draco and he had to breathe deeply to stave off the thoughts of his godson in such an occupation.

 

“What’s happening?” The voice was quiet.

“Nothing,” Severus replied. “Get out of here before she comes back and sees you.”

“Is he alright?” the man tried to look past Severus’ form to the bed.  
“No, he’s not,” Severus shook his head. “None of you fucking are. Take my advice and get the hell out of here, before this happens to you.”

“It won’t, though, he only gets in this mess because he refuses the protection,” the blonde chewed on his lip.

“Well I’ve told him he’s an idiot plenty of times,” Severus muttered, only just noticing that their visitor was completely naked.

“So have we,” was the whispering answer, and then there were footsteps on the stairs. “Everybody wants someone like you,” he said finally, in a strange voice, and disappeared.

 

 _Everybody but Ron,_ Severus corrected him mentally. _Any one of you would want saving like this except him._

 

Heels clacked on the wood and the woman appeared back. She didn’t deign to re-enter the room. She threw a sizable pouch of money to Severus, who caught it deft hands.

 

“If I hear so much as one word about you opening your mouth, now you’ve had that,” she motioned to the money, “I warn you both, I’m a powerful woman. And there _will_ be hell to pay. Just remember that before you spout your mouth off, Snape.”

 

It was the first time she had ever bothered to use his real name and Severus knew it was a calculated stab to enforce her apparent power.

 

“Now, get out. Use the back apparition point. I hope when he’s finished screwing you that you can see how worthless he is.”

 

Severus acted in response to the barb before he rationally considered it. Pushing the woman back into the wall of the landing, his wand at her throat, Severus broke all of his rules of etiquette.

 

“If he is worthless it is _only_ because you have made him so in your abuse of his body as your star attraction,” Severus growled, and immediately stepped back. “Get out of my sight.”

 

The woman left without a second glance and Severus walked quickly to the bed. “Come on, up, now.”

 

His words were edgy and Ron understood the tone perfectly. If he had wanted to protest, Severus could tell that the man simply didn’t have the energy to fight after the brutal abuse and subsequent events. He shrunk the bag down enough so that it would fit in his pocket and shoved it there, before bending down and placing one arm beneath Ron’s arms, aiding him to stand up.

  
“Can you walk?” He asked quietly.

 

Ron tentatively shook his head and Severus instantly charmed his body weightless before sweeping him up into his arms.

 

He thought, as he moved much more stealthily through the brothel to avoid unwanted attention, that he would have liked to have been able to eschew the charm, to properly bear the weight of the body he was carrying out of hell.

 

But then, as he saw the blank look on Ron’s pale face, he guessed he would have more than enough weight to bear when the redhead finally came out of his stupor.

 

***

Severus had never quite appreciated how narrow the staircase was in his house until he tried to haul a six foot two body up it. It wasn’t the weight which posed the problem, as he’d successfully kept Ron weightless through the apparition. The problem came from organising somewhat limp limbs around the bends and Ron was proving absolutely no help at all.

 

The dead silence was what worried Severus the most. In his arms Ron was awake and looking around, but he made no effort to make Severus’ climb easier and his lips were welded tightly together. Laying him down on the side of the bed nearest to the door, Severus immediately summoned the rudimentary healing kit he kept in the bathroom and spelled off Ron’s clothes again. Even that failed to get a response.

 

 _He must be in shock and that explains the silence._ Determined not to let his fear of Ron’s quiet prevent him from healing the man, Severus grabbed the first jar he laid hands on, which he began to rub over the prominent bruising. There was a little hiss of pain from bloodless lips but other than that Ron did nothing but breathe.

 

_And even that is deadly quiet._

Liberally coating the bruised skin with the unction in the jar, Severus worked quickly until the only part left to touch was Ron’s face. With his wand he gently cleaned away the now-dried blood leading from the long nose he was so used to, and sat nearer on the bed for a better angle. Only then did the blue eyes look up and fix on him.

 

“I understand you must be in shock,” Severus said quietly, and softly stroked the mixture onto Ron’s skin, keeping his fingers delicate in their touch. He was barely even tracing his pads over the bones outlining the sockets of Ron’s eyes; he was so desperate to be gentle.

 

There was no answer but the eyes kept on staring to the point where Severus had to wonder if Ron was seeing him at all, if he’d not slipped off into a trance. Finished with the bruise healing cream, Severus reached for a vial in the kit and uncorked it, lifting it to Ron’s lips.

  
“What is it?” he finally spoke, but his voice was a low, resentful mutter.

“It’s just something for the pain,” Severus nudged the glass closer. “Open your mouth.”

 

There was a sudden glitter in the sapphires which immediately told Severus just how Ron was reacting to his ‘rescue’.

 

“Please, Ron, don’t be obtuse, you’re injured and you must let me mend you.”

“Why?” Ron reached up and forcefully pushed Severus’ hand away from his mouth, and he had to work hard not to spill the potion.

“Because staying in this condition when I can easily abate the pain is ridiculous,” Severus raised an eyebrow.

 

“Why did you have to do it?” Ron asked again, his eyes narrowing. “Why, Severus?”

“What I can’t comprehend is why you aren’t glad you’re out of there,” Severus swallowed. “You look like a punchbag and all she could care about was her infernal business.”

“That’s the point,” Ron hissed. “Nobody cared there.”

“And _why_ it was suicidal for you to remain. I know you saw that as your ultimate goal, Ron, but I will make no apology for the way I acted this evening.”

 

Severus was suddenly very tired, and his shoulders slumped. His hand nearly tipped the potion out onto the duvet in its laxity.

 

“And what about the other blokes, could you apologise to them?” Ron’s voice dropped to a husky rumble. Severus saw that his eyes were wet. “You said it yourself, Severus, nobody cares. Nobody cared there, but me and my fucking unused potions. Now who are they going to get them from? I was the _only_ one that gave a shit, Severus and now… now who’s going to fucking protect _them_ when she gets in a strop?”

 

Awkwardly swallowing on a dry throat, Severus looked down at what he held. “My thoughts were only of you.”

 

Ron threw him a filthy look which told him explicitly what he thought of Severus at that very moment and he was loathe to admit it actually hurt.

 

“Open your mouth,” Severus forced steel into his voice and raised his hand again.

“No, Snape, fuck off. I’ll be out of here in the morning,” Ron muttered. “Don’t touch me.”

 

Whereas back in the brothel, it seemed like Severus’ rage had deserted him, in the relative normality of his home he found it flowed easily and he reached forward and grabbed the redhead’s nose, forcing his mouth to open instinctively. With one tip of his wrist, the potion sailed down the back of Ron’s throat and he choked, face contorting with disgust.

 

“Seriously, Snape, fuck off,” Ron tried to push himself up into a sitting position but all it took was one splayed hand on his chest and he was pinned to the bed, his weakened state aiding Severus in holding him down.

“Listen to me,” Severus hissed. “I did _not_ just intimidate a woman so you could waltz out of here and go and do God-knows-what to yourself. You will stay here until I’m satisfied that monster didn’t hurt you any more than I already know, do you understand me, Weasley?”

 

He threw on the harsh addition of Ron’s last name to try and grab his attention –he wasn’t fool enough to try for respect.

 

“No more potions,” Ron glared at him.

“Yes, there will be more,” Severus corrected him. “Because whilst you are perfectly content to let yourself writhe in agony, I would prefer not to have such a painful soundtrack to my Christmas evening.”

 

Severus watched as the redhead seemed to suck in all the energy he could, just like a gathering tornado, and then he focussed it into trying to get up off the bed. Acting impulsively, Severus had him immobile on the mattress before Ron could get the pads of his feet on the floor. Jaws locked together, he could only glare in anger. Severus nervously reached for another potion and pulled out the stopper. He looked between Ron and the glass, knowing he was about to sedate him against his will.

 

_It’s like an awful low-grade muggle horror movie where the evil, ugly old man captures the young and beautiful hero and holds them captive…_

 

He shivered and forced his hand to stop trembling.

  
“This is for your own good, you need rest, and if you won’t let me heal you awake then I’ll do it as you sleep.”

 

Even as he said it, he hated himself. Moving up so that he half-kneeled next to Ron’s head, he removed the immobiliser from the angry face, quickly opened his mouth and poured the sleeping draught down his gullet. Choking slightly Ron just stared up at him. Severus reached for the last vial.

 

“This strictly isn’t necessary but I would rather not take risks, this will tend to any internal injuries you may have sustained. None showed up in my scan but still, I feel uneasy and as I know you will not go to the hospital, I want to be sure.”

 

“When did you scan me?” Ron’s voice was quieter, and rather afraid.

“You passed out,” Severus lowered his own voice in response, switching back to the honeyed, soothing voice he had tried to tempt Ron with back in the brothel. “And I was so worried I started scanning.”

“So nothing…”

“Nothing,” Severus assured him, though he knew the redhead would more likely be disappointed than relieved. “You’ll be asleep within another minute, so here.”

 

He thought they might have made progress as Ron’s jaw fell open and he obediently swallowed once more when Severus’ wrist tipped. Releasing the rest of his body, Severus helped the increasingly sleepy man into his bed, pulling the duvet back so that he could arrange him beneath it.

 

Eyelids which were healing closed and Severus nearly let out a sigh of relief, but Ron spoke, his words a whisper but damning all the same.

 

“I fucking _hate_ you, Severus…”

 

Ron’s words trailed off to quiet breath and his head gave a shift on the pillow which indicated that the potion had taken effect. Severus reached out a hand to brush the hair off Ron’s brow.

 

“Sweet Merlin’s…” he knew his mouth was slightly open as he looked down, his hand still outstretched.

 

The approaching fingers had caused Ron to throw up a shield around his body, one which was shimmery enough to see but Severus knew he wouldn’t be able to penetrate. It was magic which one most often found in the aftermath combat, where the ambient magic of a witch or wizard managed to protect them from enemy when they were injured. He reached out his index finger and tried to broach the shield, but as he expected he couldn’t touch any part of Ron’s body. The redhead didn’t even have his wand on him.

 

_His natural response to my help, it would seem: fuck off. Well, he said as much._

 

Severus sighed and reached out for the duvet, layering it gently over Ron’s body, though the shield prevented it from touching him. He set it down anyway, simply to keep the heat in, and then he moved the healing kit off the bed onto the dressing table. Only then did Severus let the trembling overtake his hands. He reached up and dragged his fingers back through long hair tangled by the wind, then placed his face in them, the tips resting just beneath his tired eyes.

 

 _We should have been lying in a sweaty warm heap round about now…_ He looked wistfully at the clock on the bedside table. He walked quietly from the bedroom, even though there was no chance of Ron waking up with the amount of sleeping draught he’d been given, and made his way back down the stairs. He flicked the lights on, which he’d neglected to do in his haste to get Ron resting, and shrugged out of his coat, hanging it on the hooks beside the door.

 

Everything seemed such a blur that he was having trouble comprehending all of his actions. He wasn’t quite sure how what should have been a merry little Christmas fucking session had been turned into a rescue attempt with plenty of threats laced in. That reminded him of Ron’s belongings and money in his coat pocket, and he retrieved them, leaving them on the small table by the door for him to collect in the morning.

 

The thought of the morning had him turning into the kitchen and putting the kettle on to boil.

 

_How very English of you, Severus… a night like that and you’re reaching for the teabags instead of the bottle._

 

He had to snort at his own mind’s accurate assessment. But Severus failed to see how getting drunk with a hurt man upstairs would be a sensible conclusion for the night. So instead he methodically made his tea with milk and one sugar and held it in his hands, not caring that the scalding water was stinging his skin through the cheap craftsmanship. He hovered, not knowing where to go or what to do. Severus settled for aimlessly wandering around the bottom floor of the house, drifting from small room to small room, not really looking at anything, only thinking.

 

_He’s already said he hates me for what I did… and the shield is valid proof that he didn’t want to be rescued and he certainly didn’t want to be healed of his injuries._

Nausea stole over Severus then, replaying the horrific abuse in his mind again as he had seen it in Ron’s own. He did not recognise the man by face or name, but he longed to hunt the miserable excuse of a human being down and make him pay in kind.

 

 _Which is entirely the most logical thing to do, isn’t it?_ He scowled in disgust at himself as he passed the hallway mirror and moved to circling the sofa, keeping his ears open for any sounds of distress above, even though he knew there wouldn’t be. The potion he had given Ron was of his own making, and when he brewed he always laced his sleeping draughts with a dash of dreamless sleep qualities. He thought that it stood to reason that if one was having trouble sleeping in the first place then there would probably be a decent excuse for not wanting nightmares when one finally managed it.

 

Sinking down on the second to last stair, Severus raised the mug to his lips and drank, the sugary liquid comforting him even though it was still slightly too hot, and his tongue burned.

 

Although he knew the road of the morning would be hideous to travel, he couldn’t bring himself to regret _anything_ he had done that evening. Everything had gone so horribly wrong that just thinking about it made him tired.

 

_I wonder just how paradoxical it makes my life that the first person I have ever openly stuck up for, ever stuck my neck out for without an alternate agenda, didn’t want it, or my help._

Severus groaned slightly thinking of the fact that he had just forcedly drugged Ron into sleep, into remaining with him, in his house –his bed, even, when he clearly didn’t want to.

 

_Plenty would say that makes you every bit as foul as the repulsive filth that abused him._

With that thought Severus got to his feet again and reached out to flick off the lights. He didn’t have to look down to recognise the warm brush of the cat against his ankles and he ducked to pick her up, tucking her under his arm, and made his way back up the stairs. Ron was exactly where he had been left, though he had sprawled slightly in his sleep and his face had lost the tense expression.

 

“It’ll be back,” Severus muttered bitterly to himself, but Artemis meowed in response. “Just what I need at the moment,” he plopped her down on the bed next to Ron. “A cat that talks back.”

 

He could see the shield still in place from the shimmering glow around Ron’s face, so instead of heading for the bed himself, Severus reached down to unlace his boots and changed into his nightwear, non-descript black items which were thick and warm. Dragging a blanket off the top shelf of his wardrobe, he threw it around his shoulders and arranged himself on the large window sill, choosing to look out over the snow-covered fields as opposed to the hostile if comatose redhead in his bed.

 

_How in the name of all things magical did this even happen? Got to be big to have you posing so melancholically on the fucking window sill…_

The question almost made him laugh and he busied himself by taking a mouthful of tea. It was true, since he had first visited Ron everything seemed to have gone rather haywire in his life. He had never had sex with anybody in his cottage until Ron. He had never felt so comfortable with his sexuality before Ron. He had never so openly displayed his protective nature until it was Ron that needed protecting.

 

Everything seemed to swirl inward to the figure fast asleep on the mattress, the one who had claimed to hate him as he had drifted off into a drug induced sleep.

 

_Oh, Jesus. This is more complicated than I ever hoped life would be again._

But Severus knew as he sat there, looking at a fox creeping across untouched snow, that life would only be complicated if he wanted it to be. He could wait for Ron to wake up in the morning, feed him, clothe him, give him his belongings, and throw him out of the front door. It was already certain he could never return to the brothel again, anyway. There would be no reason for him to ever see Ronald Weasley again if he didn’t want to.

 

He ruminated on that fact, fixing his eyes down on the garden gate, aware that they would have taken on a gleam as he tried to decide what he should do.

 

_Boxing Day is hardly the time to throw the kid out in the road after you’ve just lost him his job and possibly put him in danger from the old hag that runs the place… after all your chivalry it would be a rather cruel slap in the face for him._

Severus couldn’t help it; he turned his head around and looked at Ron, and didn’t notice at first that the shimmer was missing, or that the cat had curled up against his spine through the duvet where he had turned onto his side. Severus was transfixed by the red hair, pale skin –now nearly completely fixed by the paste he had used. He didn’t suppose Ron would care that it was of his own creation and more advanced than anything currently on the market for the healing of bruises.

 

He moved with purposeful slowness, draining the rest of his tea mug as he went and setting it down by the alarm clock. Ron didn’t move at all and Severus leant over him, wondering how he should test if the shield would remain down.

 

Licking his lips, he held his breath and aimed for Ron’s forehead, and almost moaned when his lips connected to the warm skin and the shield stayed absent from their tender moment. Without caring if he brought it back, Severus slid into the bed beneath the duvet and wrapped his arms around Ron’s naked body, pulling him close.

 

Severus kissed his forehead again and felt more relieved than he ever thought possible, knowing that he could hold the man he had just rescued through the first night he could no longer call himself the finest whore in the Knockturn district. He reached back and flicked the lights off from the useful central switch next to the bed, before settling once more against Ron’s hot skin, which was no longer bruised.

 

 _And whether or not I agree with his position or what he was, it would be idiotic to expect him to be happy about his fall from…_ Grace seemed the wrong word with which to finish that sentence, but Severus didn’t know how to do so without belittling the man he held tightly in his arms. He kissed his forehead again and that time did not pull his lips away. He left them there and closed his eyes, inhaling the vanilla and rose scent. The blood was gone but there was still something sinister pervading the scent of Ron’s skin and he wished he had the energy to reach for his wand to perform some basic cleaning spells.

 

But his limbs felt like lead against the soft mattress, which had probably been his only extravagance on moving in. And Severus didn’t want to admit just how right Ron felt cradled in his arms.

 

_Fuck._

 

He let out a shaky breath. The warm weight next to him only pushed him further towards sleep and his mind filled with the hazy remnants of his rememberings of their adventure with the cheesecake.

 

_“Lick it off me…” Ron murmured provocatively, and brazenly buried his face further into the sofa cushions, pushing his arse higher into the air. “You know you want to, Severus…”_

_Severus licked as instructed, his tongue curling along the heated flesh whilst his nose brushed deeply within the spread crevasse. Ron’s moan was enough to make him spill. He hadn’t even been touched._

“Fuck,” Severus muttered against Ron’s brow, realising he had made his cock fill.

 

He lay there, willing away his erection, when all of a sudden he had the feeling of being watched. The cat was snoring; he could hear her over Ron’s gentle breaths next to him. So he found himself at a loss as to where the sensation was coming from. His years as a spy had taught him enough to know when he was under surveillance, but he was out of practice on procuring the ‘who’ part.

 

_Heh. Maybe Ron wasn’t hallucinating. Well, if you’re here, Potter, give me a sign._

 

Severus ignored the random creak on the floorboard which sounded at that moment. He squeezed his eyes forcefully shut and tightened his grip on Ron, trying desperately not to think of what Harry Potter might be saying if he were indeed in the room, however dead, watching Severus Snape cuddle up to his best friend’s drugged body.

 

***

Ron wasn’t entirely aware of where he was. All he recognised was a tight grip about his waist, lips pressed to his brow and an almost grovelling atmosphere surrounding him. He cracked open one eye and found the room dark. He felt another warmth in the small of his back but couldn’t imagine what it might be. The smell of the bed and the body cleaving to him was comforting and he moaned a little in his relaxation.

 

Something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t going to fight to place it. He closed his eyes, inhaled the scent of tea with almost a honey-sweet infusion, and fell back to sleep.

 

***

Standing waiting for the kettle to boil again, Severus was looking out of the window. More snow had fallen during the night and to anyone else the view might have looked rather idyllic. Even to him, on a morning slightly better than the one which had broken, it would have looked beautiful. But all he could think of –all he had thought of since his eyes had opened to find Ron curled up against him- was how on earth he was going to handle it when the redhead woke up.

 

And it was the issue of him waking up that Severus was pondering over. It would be easy for him to give Ron another dosage of the sleeping draught to ensure he was fully rested before they had what seemed to be an inevitable confrontation over the events of the previous night.

 

_But drugging him again takes you one step closer to that evil image you were wittering on about last night…_

 

He looked at the bottle of potion sitting on the side and glared at it as though it should be giving him the answers. Next to it lay another that Ron might want, and Severus was more tempted to try dosing him up with that before anything else –anti-depressant potion.

 

The house was freezing and he’d tried his best by lighting the main chimney and the tiny gas fire in the bathroom but there was no doubt that it was bordering on arctic. Normally he wouldn’t bother trying to warm it up but he kept forgetting that he was not alone within the crooked walls of his cottage. He didn’t feel quite awake enough to attempt a heating spell just yet so it was with the notion of waking up in mind that he waited for the kettle to boil whilst his feet froze on the kitchen tiles.

 

The night had been relatively uneventful after Severus had crawled into bed alongside Ron and he’d woken up to find them both in exactly the same position, the only difference being that Ron had formed his own grip around Severus’ body.

 

_It was nice to have somebody to wake up to like that, for a change…_

 

The lonely thought drifted across his mind as he made his tea.

 

_I can’t do it again. He’s twenty-three, not a child, and I have no right in medicating him against his will, because it’s not even for the benefit of his health now, like it was last night._

And even then, Severus knew, it had been questionable.

 

_Do it again and you’re just… oh, what was that one where the lead character has a car accident and is rescued by the maniac ex-nurse who ends up chopping his foot off? Runs a policeman’s head over with the muggle lawnmower… oh… damn…_

 

It was too early to be searching for the names of books read long ago, Severus realised, and he retreated with his mug of tea back to the sofa to try and warm up in front of the fire. The second his behind touched the seat he heard the floorboards in the bedroom above creak and he almost groaned. He didn’t feel ready to justify his actions, and deep in his heart Severus knew he would never really be able to find any such rationalisations –because he was still incredibly glad that Ron was free of obligation to the brothel.

 

He listened to the definite footsteps moving around the ceiling and then heard the stairs creaking. Only with someone else there did he realise the fact just how rickety everything was in the old building.

 

Severus purposefully kept his eyes on the mug of tea in his hands and didn’t look up when the feet reached the bottom of the stairs. He heard Ron moving quietly and then he noticed him drop the cat onto the sofa next to him.

 

“Hey,” Ron’s voice was croaky.

“Morning,” Severus said quietly, and immediately felt ridiculous, acting so humbled within his own home, as though speaking loudly and offending the redhead would be the worst of his problems.

 

The sofa dipped as Ron sat down where Artemis had immediately jumped off and Severus noticed that he had commandeered his dressing gown.

 

“You’ll freeze,” Severus murmured.

 

Ron reached out a hand and tugged the mug of tea off him, not particularly gently, and knocked it back to his lips, gulping hard.

 

_That’d be the internal healing potion making him dry…_

Severus said nothing aloud and let his cup of tea go where it was most needed. Ron swallowed with a gasp and reached forward to set the mug on the coffee table. He leant back in his seat and an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Severus noticed the way he then wrapped his arms around his torso in exactly the same way he had in the brothel, using the pretence of keeping the robe shut to hide the fact that he was trying to hold himself together. Sapphire eyes were firmly fixed on the fire and Severus didn’t know what he could say to make it better.

 

 _And, he might have moved on from his feelings last night, I might not need to make it better…_ He knew he was fooling himself.

 

“I thought I might wake up and find it had all been a dream,” Ron finally whispered, eyes falling shut. “I… Severus… you lost me my job. Now what am I meant to do?”

 

Severus swallowed compulsively “Look, Ron I… I didn’t know that when I went down there I would lose you your job, you never even so much as _hinted_ that you were under threat of sacking.”  
“Why would I have?” Ron protested. “Why on earth would I have told you?”

“Because you trusted me?” Severus raised his eyebrows.

“No, and if I did any shred of that’s gone now,” Ron flicked him a filthy look. “You had no right, Severus, just like you had no right to bring me here, and heal me. I didn’t want to be healed.”

“And you expected me to just leave you?”

“Yes,” Ron shrugged simply. “I want out, you know it. If you’d left me there it might have made the road a bit shorter.”

“Well, I won’t apologise for bringing you home, even if you lost your job because of it.”

“No, that’s right, because you wanted me out of there the second you laid eyes on me,” Ron spat contemptuously, his fists clenching.

 

“Will you hear me out for a moment?” Severus asked quietly. “I have something to say.”

 

Ron shrugged but stayed quiet, not looking at Severus at all.

 

“I… I spent years of my life protecting someone only to find out that I had acted so that they might be sacrificed at the opportune moment. I also spent years of my life watching people die whom I had no chance of saving and as much as I am unfeeling, only evil can watch that sort of cruelty and fail to be affected. Do you understand why I can’t bear to see you sit there, a self-marked lamb for slaughter?”

 

“But it’s none of your business,” Ron groaned, and he buried his face in his hands. “It’s not, Severus. You just… I should… God, I just want to die, Severus.”

 

If Severus was already cold his body dipped into minus degrees as the words filtered into the air of the living room and hung with sapping profoundness.

 

He knew his next move had the potential to be an unmitigated disaster. But, he needed to know _just_ how serious the redhead was about self-destruction before he decided on his next course of action. Pulling his wand from the sleeve of his jumper, he summoned something from his private stores and caught it deftly with his free hand. He knew Ron was watching him as he leant forward and placed the vial next to the empty mug.

 

“Do you know what that is?” He asked quietly, not looking at Ron, but at the vial, the clear liquid within it lit by the fire behind the table.

“No,” Ron muttered.  
“ _That_ is one of the strongest poisons known to wizardkind that can be brewed,” Severus’ words were brusque. “And all it would take would be for one tiny little drop on your tongue, and you’d be dead within the minute. Painlessly, for the most part.”

 

Severus let the words sink in before he spoke again.

 

“If you truly want to die, then I will not stop you. The poison is there, waiting. I can bury you here, nobody would know, except me, and I doubt you care about my conscience in all of this. Hell, if you need me to, I’ll pour it down your throat to spare you the trouble. Your choice, Weasley.”

 

He finished and turned his head to finally look at Ron, his eyebrows rising and holding there to leave the invitation open. Severus focussed hard, watching the colour drain out of Ron’s skin where it had crept back during his night of rest. Blue eyes had widened and then Severus saw what he needed to observe, and knew that he had been correct.

 

Amongst the glittering blue he saw ample fear supported by a healthy dose of telling horror at what was on offer to him. Severus moved the wand and the bottle soared into his hand again, where he banished it back from where he had summoned it. Ron’s face turned to him, angry.

 

“Bring it back,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“You don’t want it, Ron,” Severus said calmly, and leant back on the sofa feeling relieved.

“I do,” the voice grew a little louder but it wasn’t hard to discern that it was balanced on feeble foundations. “Bring it back and I’ll do it.”

“You should know me well enough by now that I would never do that; your hesitation told me just how the situation stands.” Severus assured him.

“Then what the fuck was the point of all that?” Ron jumped up. “What the fuck are you playing at? And come _on,_ a man can’t hesitate in deciding whether to end his own life or not?!”

 

Severus got to his own feet and was glad of their almost equal heights; it allowed him to feel every bit as powerful as Ron.

  
“Because I needed to see how you would react confronted with a means to end your suffering,” Severus answered him truthfully. “And if you can admit to me that you weren’t scared, and horrified, by what I was offering you, I’ll bring it straight back and you can be in the ground by noon.”

“You’re a bastard,” Ron choked out then, and turned away, moving in front of the fire and pacing up and down. “I just… why, why the fuck did it have to be you? Why couldn’t you be the bastard we knew at school?”

“I am still that,” Severus assured him. “I am a man who has just lost you your employment position, drugged you against your will and offered to murder you. Do you really think, Weasley, that there’s a sainted place in heaven in the offing for me?”

 

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest, waiting for Ron to answer him.

 

“Don’t forget that you used whores, pretty sure that’s not going to do you any favours,” the reply was broken and weak but it was minus the vitriol that Severus had expected. “You can put that in the place of murder, we both know you wouldn’t kill me, even if I begged.”

 

Ron tripped back to the sofa and threw himself down on it, drawing his legs up beneath him

 

“Would you have done it?” Ron asked suddenly, looking up at him with gazing eyes. “If you were me, would you have grabbed it and downed it?”

“I would not presume to put myself in another man’s shoes,” Severus crouched down in front of him. “But Ron… come on, do you see what I see? That you don’t truly want to die? If you have lived in misery for so long, and want this to end as much as you say you do, I truly believe you would have been on the bottle faster than… well. I know you loathe me at the moment, and I understand that… but I need you to understand my reasons for acting as I did.”

 

“I understand them,” Ron’s eyes fluttered shut and he took what looked like a painful breath. “But I’ll never forgive you.”

 

_He seems to have a million and one different ways to say ‘I hate you’ and each hurts as much as the next. Jesus._

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness, Ron,” Severus reached out and covered the large hands with his own. “I’m just asking you not to die.”

“What do you want from me?” Ron raised his chin. “What now? I’ve got no where to go to work, no income. The reason I entered that fucking place is that, believe it or not, it was _better_ than street walking, where any fucker could grab you and drag you down an alley.”

 

“And you were _so_ much safer in the whorehouse,” Severus’ tone was rent with sarcasm. “Or maybe you don’t quite remember how badly you were hurt?”  
“I remember,” Ron murmured. “I always remember.”

 

Severus’ legs were starting to cramp up in their crouched position combined with the cold, but he didn’t want to move from his supporting role.

 

“Last night,” he remembered suddenly. “You managed to throw up a wandless shield around your body…”

“I’m sorry about that,” Ron raised his chin then. “I… I know what I said as I fell asleep, and I’m sorry for that, Severus. Whilst I hate what you did, I don’t hate _you_ ; you were only doing what you felt was right for me.”

“That’s a very mature reasoning,” Severus’ eyes fell down to the upholstery, his disappointment that Ron couldn’t be even the slightest bit relieved evident in his tone.

“Come on, Sev,” Ron moaned gently. “You couldn’t have thought I’d wake up and be glad that I’m out of there? Not when it was my money, not when I watched over the other blokes?”

“But you didn’t _have_ money,” Severus protested. “Not until I threatened her for it.”

 

“I don’t remember much,” Ron admitted. “I remember being back here, but before we left was a bit of a blur.”

“You passed out,” Severus said quietly. “And I must confess something to you; if you are being so mature then I suppose it would be prudent for me to be so as well. When you passed out on the bed I performed a Legilimens on you to see the extent of the abuse. And for that invasion of privacy, I must apologise.

 

“Its fine,” Ron answered, almost warmly. “If our positions had been reversed, I suppose I would have done the same. With the spell, I mean.”

“And not the rest?” Severus looked up. “You wouldn’t have rescued me from that hovel?”

 

Ron chewed at his lip thoughtfully for a few moments, before giving a tiny shrug and whispering, “I don’t know.”

 

_You do know, but you know telling me that will advertise the fact you understand perfectly well why I acted as I did, why I **feel** like I do._

It was enough of an admission for Severus anyway, however indirect, and he pushed himself upright with a wince at the pain in his knees.

 

“So, just a second, then… do you not remember that you saw Harry, last night?” he asked suddenly.

 

He watched colour burst into Ron’s face and he saw the strong chin tuck down into his chest.

 

“I see him all the fucking time,” Ron muttered. “I’m mad, I know, you don’t have to tell me.”  
“How long have you seen him?” Severus asked, his hand itching to reach out and comfort.

“It’s not all the time, just when I get really upset or when I’m really…”

“What?” Severus had an inkling of Ron’s answer.

“Injured,” he whispered.

 

“Well,” Severus moved to the side of the sofa and looked down at the top of his auburn hair. “I don’t think you are entirely mad. I think… last night in the bedroom I had the distinct impression that somebody was watching us, and it wasn’t Artemis as she was doing her hot water bottle impression on your spine.”

 

“Ohh, so that’s what it was!” Ron almost smiled. “I woke up in the night, couldn’t figure it out for the life of me. I knew you were there, from the smell, but couldn’t place her. I was sort of out of it.”  
“That would be the undesired healing and sleeping draughts I administered,” Severus’ cheeks had their own burning moment then.

 

“So you think he was there?” Ron chewed his lip again.

“I did not see him if he was,” Severus sighed. “But then I have never been particularly talented at dealing with the paranormal. Even at Hogwarts, with the most obvious ghosts in the world…”

“I don’t see her,” Ron’s voice was clouded with emotion as he spoke and Severus wondered what was coming next –Ron had never talked about either Harry or Hermione in more than passing. “I don’t see her and yet I… I loved her. And I was pretty sure that she loved me too. But its Harry that I see.”  
“Well, you loved him too,” Severus reminded gently. “Even if it was a different kind of love.”

“But why… I don’t get why he’s watching over me, if he is. And it’s not all the time, so…”

 

“Nobody knows the sort of deals one can make after death, Ron,” Severus pointed out. “Or if the portal remains open. Maybe he comes when he senses your need?”

 

Severus wondered how they had ended up on the conversation of ghosts and life after death. All he knew was that Ron’s shoulders had visibly slumped and his head was still hung in a desolate way.

 

Moving to the back of the sofa, Severus ducked down and threaded his arms around Ron’s torso, giving him a rough yet warm squeeze. When Ron didn’t push him away Severus chanced to press a kiss just beneath his ear. “Is there anything I can get you for breakfast? Or just…anything?”

 

“Can I use your bath?” Ron murmured. “And more tea?”

“Of course,” Severus pulled off him and used his wand to turn the kettle on to boil again. “Though I…”  
“You can come in and watch I’m not going to off myself,” Ron eased himself into a standing position and stretched awkwardly. “And… seeing as you’re clearly obsessed with healing, do you have anything for my muscles? They’re…”

“Yes,” Severus answered, unable to keep his small thrilled smile off his face that Ron was accepting his medication.

 

Ron looked at him warily and stepped around the sofa, his hips still moving whorishly beneath the dressing gown and Severus had to look away. He also found himself having to ask.  
  
“Ron… you… so did you work on the streets then, before you entered the brothel? Is that how you started out?”

“For a while,” Ron confirmed. “But I hated it. I was new to it and I didn’t know rules or limits… I guess now I know that was because I didn’t want them,” he walked close to Severus. “But the brothel, for all its faults, was safer for me.”

 

“And now?” Severus’ body had begun to tingle from their close proximity.

“Now I’m going to go and sleep until I can’t sleep any more,” Ron whispered. “And then I’ll figure it out when I wake up.”

 

He moved so fast that Severus had no chance to stop the redhead as arms wrapped tightly around his torso. “I will never forgive you, Severus, but I… I think I’m going to need you. I’m not staying here, though.”

“You would be welcome to,” Severus was loathing at the thought of Ron leaving when they had talked so frankly about his suicidal tendencies not twenty minutes before. “You need someone to-”

“Take care of me?” Ron finished for him. “No, Severus. Just let me be, alright?”

“Ron, just think about it,” Severus murmured in his ear. “If you’re only going to sleep, you can do that here.”  
“I’m going home,” Ron said flatly. “And nothing you can say will stop me. You could stop me physically, but I hope you’d know that would only fuck the connection between us up even more?”  
  
“There’s a connection?” Severus frowned.

“Of course there fucking is, whether by nature or by your own forging, Severus, it’s obvious that there’s something. Two people just don’t have this sort of thing without one. Even if the thing is the connection.”  
“You’re not making much sense, Ron.”

“Well maybe I would if you hadn’t doped me up on medicine.”

 

Severus stayed quiet even though he could sense the light joke in Ron’s words. He held on a little tighter. “Don’t leave just yet. Have your bath; I’ll sort out some potions for you. I…”

“What?” Ron asked warily.

“Would you consent to something to help your depression?”

“If it makes you happy,” Ron shrugged.

“It would make me more than happy,” Severus muttered. “But then I know you’re only agreeing because I have no way of ensuring that you take them once you’ve left my house.”  
“Clever man,” Ron pulled back and looked over Severus’ face. “You’re tired.”

 

Severus rolled his eyes and said nothing, causing Ron to reach up and brush back some of his dark sleep-tangled hair from his forehead.

 

“You look rough because of me,” Ron sighed. “And you didn’t even get your Christmas night fuck. All you got was me mouthing off and that bitch threatening you…”

“I thought you didn’t remember?”

“Hell, she’ll threaten anything if it stands still long enough.”

 

“She was shocked that I’d followed her up… she thought I was disgusted with _you_ over what had happened, and not the creep that did it.”

 

Ron shuddered then and Severus shuddered in response.

 

“Chain revulsion, gotta love it,” Ron snorted. “He was a… I really hope she doesn’t let him back on the books for someone else. I can say right now he’d’ve broken through any charms I had on me for protection. Evil.”

 

Another shudder rippled through his thin body and Severus wondered whether to tell Ron that he knew the man’s name and was sorely tempted to take his revenge. Deciding against it, Severus heard the kettle click off. “Come in here for a moment,” he nodded to the kitchen.

 

Ron followed slowly but his eyes darkened when he saw the sunshine yellow potion which Severus held in his hand.

“Make me content?” Severus implored him, holding out the bottle.

“How much?” Ron sighed, accepting it and pulling out the stopper.

“Just a tiny swig, it’s very strong. Don’t drink it all or you’ll find yourself rather high.”

 

Ron swallowed with a slight grin, and then replaced the stopper. “Where’s my stuff? I’ll stick it in now to keep you off my back.”

“Hallway,” Severus kept his smile back until he had turned away and was making the tea.

 

The morning hadn’t gone nearly as badly as he had assumed it would, despite the hurtful barbs which Ron had planted. Severus expected nothing less –after all, he had never been receptive to people meddling in his personal affairs either, even though it was generally only Albus that ever bothered, and nobody _ever_ won fighting back against Albus Dumbledore on a soul-healing mission.

 

“Well, we never got to actually talking last night, so this is late,” Ron said from behind him, and then nudged Severus on the arm.

“No, there were a lot of things that we never got to do last night,” Severus found it hard to keep his tone free of wistful longing; he had been so looking forward to their time together. “You know, last night, on the way there… I actually managed a smile. Nor did I feel like beating myself around the head for using such an establishment… oh…”

 

Severus had turned halfway through his confession and saw Ron holding something out to him.

 

“It was to make up for the cheesecake, really,” Ron blushed a little. “Because I looked. Those things weren’t cheap and you let me…well…”

“Trust me,” Severus raised a hand and placed it on his cheek. “What we used it for only made the cheesecake all the more pleasurable. And you really, truly did not have to get me anything.”  He indicated the wrapped gifts. “Especially now that I know that the old hag was withholding your wages.”

 

“Well, she was,” Ron’s lips curved into an almost impish smirk. “But she doesn’t know about the private tips I get in the room. Didn’t, I should say.”

“I was meant to be tipping you?” Severus raised his hand to his mouth in horror. “Christ, why did you never say?”

“Well, if you’d been anybody else I would have muttered what a tight bastard you were as soon as you were out of the room,” Ron rolled his eyes. “But what we had… it was so different…”

 

Ron trailed off and Severus found himself looking into his blue eyes with no more words to say. The room seemed to shrink around them as they stood, close but not touching, and the tea sat forgotten on the worktop. Ron moved closer and suddenly he was kissing Severus with dry, slightly roughened lips and his hands sprung up and framed his narrow face between them.

 

Severus still had hold of the gifts Ron had imparted and as such could only stand and be kissed as the redhead moaned softly at him. They broke the liplock but not the contact, their foreheads resting softly against one another and eyes remained open.

 

Only when his heart seemed ready to properly burst out of his ribcage did a sense of chastity come over Severus, and he gently cleared his throat. “Your tea, and the bath…”

“Yeah,” Ron whispered, and then reluctantly stepped back.

 

He disappeared to the bathroom leaving Severus slightly dazed, still clutching onto the items in the festive wrapping paper tighter than was safe for not knowing what they were. His fingers were moulded around what seemed like glass, and he tilted it, hearing the subtle slurp of liquid washing up and down. The other was a box.

 

 _Whiskey and chocolate…_ The wild guess was there and removing the wrapping paper only confirmed his suspicions. There was a note on top of the chocolates.

 

_‘I hope these are of suitable quality for your taste’._

 

Severus somehow remembered his snotty indication on the last chocolate that had been involved between them. The box was from an expensive Chocolatier in Diagon Alley.

 

“You like?” Ron re-appeared.

“Well, I don’t particularly know what to say… I am not versed in receiving gifts.”

“That’s sad,” Ron told him bluntly.

“It is, isn’t it?” Severus heard himself laugh, and he set the bottle and box down next to the forgotten tea. He moved across the kitchen and smoothed his hands around Ron’s hips, dragging him closer. “But I do believe that the most common form of acceptance revolves around the words ‘thank you’ and possibly an embrace…”

 

Ron smiled at him as Severus hugged him tightly, kissing into his hair.

“You’re welcome,” Ron whispered.

“I did bring you something but it must be rather ruined by now, a somewhat feeble attempt at a portable Christmas dinner.”

“If you made it, it wouldn’t have been feeble,” Ron assured him. “You’re a good cook, I remember.”

 

Severus fell silent and tried not to let on just how much he was enjoying their cuddle. There was no doubt that it was one, either, when Ron’s hands arranged almost lovingly on his back and the redhead shifted his weight between his feet to make himself more comfortable in the hold.

 

“Shame last night never got to happen as it should have,” he murmured morosely.

“Well,” Severus said quietly. “You are welcome to stay, just for tonight, if you would like to re-schedule.”

“All that money, gone,” Ron groaned. “I’m so sorry, Severus.”  
“What on earth are _you_ sorry for?” Severus pulled back and looked at him in dismay.

“I know what you paid for last night.”

“It isn’t important,” Severus fixed him with a dark glare, just daring him to argue.

 

Ron flushed slightly, and then nodded.

 

***

“What will you do now?” Severus asked softly.

 

They were wrapped up in bed again after Ron had used up all the hot water and the house seemingly point blank refused to grow any warmer. Bed had been the only option, even though Severus was surprised Ron had agreed to go with him. They were awkward at times, not just in their speech but in their physical movements around each other. Currently Severus lay flat on his back, one hand bent up to cradle his own head, the other tangled with Ron’s on the mattress. They touched no more than that one hand.

 

“Like I said,” Ron mumbled. “Sleep. For a long time, if I can. Being a whore isn’t really conducive to normal sleeping hours.”

“You no longer have to call yourself that,” Severus commented.

“I know that,” Ron’s voice hardened. “But I…”  
“Hard to break a habit,” Severus pardoned him slightly. “And you were, admittedly, so very good at what you did.”

“Do,” Ron corrected him gently. “That’s not the only brothel in the world, Severus.”

 

“You plan to go elsewhere?” Severus couldn’t help the annoyance filtering into his tone. “I rescue you from one so you decide to find another?”

“It’s not… it’s not me being a shit, I promise,” Ron squeezed his hand.

“Then tell me what the hell it is…”

“What else am I good for?” Ron burst out. “I left school early, no NEWTs. I don’t have any work experience. I don’t have anything but my body and my cock and… stupid fucking vanilla and rose scented cards.”

 

“You are good for much more than that,” Severus massaged firm circles on the back of Ron’s hand with his thumb. “And you would find another job.”

“Like what?”

“Well, last time I checked nobody needed NEWTs or a gold star in fucking to work behind a bar, or in a restaurant.”

 

Ron said nothing.

 

“But then, they wouldn’t offer the same level of punishment as another whorehouse, would they?” Severus asked perceptively.

“No,” Ron sighed.

 

“You don’t need to punish yourself. Have you ever considered, Ron, that if Harry _is_ watching over you, then he wouldn’t approve of what you’re doing? That he’d be absolutely livid, much like I was, to find you there?”

 

“Then he shouldn’t have fucking left me, should he?” Ron answered bitterly. “At least you’re around to tell me in person.”

 

“Have you ever talked about it, Ron? What happened? Have you ever discussed how you feel?”

“No, and I don’t intend to start now,” was the moody, abrupt answer and Severus let out a tiny sigh.

“I understand. I never spoke to anybody, either. I had my moments of public grief but other than that… Believe me; I _do_ empathize with your silence.”

 

“Do you ever stop loving them?”

 

Severus considered his answer. “I don’t know. I know personally up until my Patronus changed back to the form which must have been my own, I didn’t.”

“Fuck,” Ron breathed, and rolled over, releasing Severus’ hand as he pulled away and curled into an impossibly tiny ball, considering his size, facing away from him.

 

“But then your question… are you referring to romantic love or… well, the love between friends?”

“Friends.”

 

Severus wondered why he had bothered to make the distinction. He couldn’t imagine either loss being any easier, especially if the party had never really known the love of a partner.

 

 _And he and Granger can’t have had much; they were barely able to remain in the same room as one another in their sixth year…_ Severus didn’t even know how he remembered that fact, that he’d paid that much attention to the love affairs of Harry Potter’s friends. _And that’s all they ever were to you, his friends… nothing more than those who followed him through thick and thin…_

 

“I am sorry I’m of so little use to you,” Severus coughed awkwardly to clear his throat, realising it was thick with emotion he hadn’t felt building. “I have no practice in discussing grief. I never bothered, not on the death of my father, my mother, or… Lily.”

 

He heard Ron’s breathing quiet with the will to hear every single word that Severus might want to say, but the dark-haired man suddenly found he could speak no more as pain blossomed in his own chest. His eyes drifted over to the window where he saw it was snowing again, and he took it as a welcome distraction, using the old tactic of diversion to prevent himself from embarrassment.

 

Severus barely felt the mattress dip as Ron’s light weight turned, but he was very aware when his face hovered above him, looking down with concerned eyes.

 

“I’ve said it before,” Ron whispered. “You’re broken, Severus.”

“As are you,” Severus kept his eyes on the falling snow. “And you have far more reason to be. I am older, more mature; I should know how to deal with such emotion by now.”

“You’re an idiot,” Ron told him frankly, before sighing and settling himself down along Severus’s side, his head resting on one shoulder, one leg draped between Severus’ and his arm over the trim stomach.

 

Severus inhaled the untainted rose and vanilla which wafted up from Ron’s washed hair. “Why do you smell so delicious?” he muttered before he could stop himself.

“Well I do try,” Ron tilted his head up to kiss gently at Severus’ slightly stubbly jawline. “Funny, I don’t think in all the years I’ve known you, Severus, I’ve ever seen you anything other than immaculately shaved.”

“Well this is the real truth,” Severus snorted. “Face unshaved, hair a veritable bird’s nest and body probably smelling rather ripe, if truth be told.”

“You smell just fine,” Ron kissed again. “And, if it helps, you look actually… the stubble is sort of sexy.”

“What do I smell of?” Severus whispered.

“Don’t you know?” Ron asked. “Nobody’s told you before?”

“Please, do fill me in on the lovers you imagine me to have had,” Severus answered astringently.

“Have you never had a relationship then?”

“There have been a few, but never… never beyond the awkward conversation over a morning brew about the night before…”

“Those weren’t relationships,” Ron murmured softly.  
“Thank you, for making my life sound bleaker than even _I_ had imagined.”

 

“Sorry,” Ron flushed. “I mean… oh, fuck.” He exhaled. “You smell of tea. Quite strong tea, like English Breakfast before you brew it. And then there’s something sweeter, honey, I guess.”

“And that’s how you knew where you were last night?”

“It’s a… well, trust me, you were one of my most favourably fragranced clients.”

 

Severus laughed then, dragging the hand out from beneath his head to brush the fiery fringe away from Ron’s eyes.

 

“And the kindest,” Ron continued, his voice that low rumble which Severus recognised as one of his many hooks into sex. “And the only one to ever bring me food.”

“The only one to ever lick cheesecake from places unimaginable?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“That too,” Ron assured him with a small smile.

 

“I won’t go into the many things that you have been the only one to provide me with,” Severus’ voice dipped so low it hurt his vocal chords to talk. “Only I will say thank you now.”

“You say that like this is some kind of goodbye?”

 

“Is it not?” Severus worked up the courage to turn his head back on the pillow and met Ron’s eyes as he rose up to meet him. “Are you seriously telling me, Ron, that when I let you out of my front door in the morning I’ll ever see you again? You’d come back to the man who fucked everything up so royally for you?”

 

Ron surveyed him before answering, and instead of speaking he met their lips together in a gentle kiss. “I can’t change how I feel, Severus, about what you did. I feel so… lost, and that’s only going to get worse. At least, with what you did, I now have enough money to not have to push myself into anything straight away. I’m going to have some time on my hands. And if you’ll let me, I’d quite like to fill that time… with you. But I can’t promise what sort of state I’m going to be in.”

 

Severus reached up and threaded his hands through fiery locks and massaged slightly. “For some reason that thought doesn’t even make me worried, Ron. Only the thought of never hearing from you, knowing of your safety… only _that_ makes me anxious at this point.”

 

“You really are an idiot,” Ron breathed, his eyes fluttering shut as his head shook with disbelief. “I’m just your whore, Severus, you don’t have to care.”

“No longer officially my whore,” Severus reminded him and forced a kiss onto the plump lips, now healed by the balm he had provided.

“But unofficially?” Ron raised an eyebrow, his eyes opening to glitter slightly.

“Well… I’m sure we can come to some arrangement which doesn’t involve money passing hands,” Severus swallowed. “If it makes you feel better about the whole thing.”

“But you don’t need an ‘arrangement’?” Ron questioned, seemingly holding his breath. “Even though you know what I am, even though you know how many men have used me?”

 

“That only makes me more determined to ensure that you have someone that makes you feel warm inside,” Severus answered him, leaving out the last part of his sentence. _‘As you do for me.’_

Ron studied him for a moment, then sighed somewhat resignedly, and kissed him again whilst Severus was still trying to recover from the way the blue eyes had cut straight through to his soul.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“UnnnnnnghfuckitSeverusyes! Yesyesyesyes!”

 

Severus moaned and buried his face in Ron’s shoulder, listening to the adoration pouring out of the redhead’s mouth. Everything had seemingly happened so fast since Ron had banged on his door half an hour before.

 

“Come on, Sev, fuck me,” the rasp was desperate. “I need you to… oh, gods.”

 

Severus could feel Ron’s frantic heartbeat through their connecting chests. Where his face was pressed he put his lips, kissing softly to try and equal out the almost violent pounding his hips were keeping up against Ron’s arse.

 

They were on his sofa, the cold air of the last day of the year forgotten in their heat and desire. Ron had knocked on his door, Severus had managed to get the word ‘hello’ out of his mouth and look at Ron’s appearance, and then he’d been pounced on.

 

Severus’ cheek brushed against the prickling hair on Ron’s chin and he winced, significantly inexperienced in being close to anybody unshaven. If Ron noticed his discomfort, he didn’t mention it as he gripped his thighs tighter around Severus’ waist and dug his heels in to the flesh of his backside and growled.

 

“Come… the… fuck… on…” Ron hissed, fingernails nearly piercing the skin of Severus’ back as he thrust up in between each word.

 

Severus wasn’t particularly into rough sex, but Ron’s actions were driving him far closer to enjoyment of it than he’d ever had cause to be before.

 

“Please…” the word wasn’t a beg, it was a command and Severus moaned loudly when Ron grabbed hold of one of his hands and placed it between them. “If I don’t come soon I’m going to fucking burst, Severus…”

 

Severus grabbed hold of the rock hard member between them and tugged it the best he could from his awkward position. Ron tensed beneath him and threw his head back, his throat becoming a long creamy line speckled with the interesting auburn coloured hair which he’d had let grow there. Trying to keep his thrusts and handiwork in time, Severus nearly flagged at the energy it was taking to stay focussed. They had shared the same gruelling pace for nearly twenty minutes and he wouldn’t like admit he was waning, but he was.

 

“Oh, fuck… gods… Severus… make me come.”

 

The plea sank into Severus’ ears and he didn’t know how to say that he was sure it wasn’t going to happen. For Ron, anyway.

 

Severus lurched forward and somehow slid deeper, his cock squeezing in the intense heat and he couldn’t help it, he lost himself. His orgasm grabbed him literally by the balls and it ripped down his shaft, culminating in several hard and fast spurts whilst his body trembled and he gasped with each expulsion.

 

“Ohhh _fuck_ ,” Ron half-sobbed, and sank a hand into Severus’ hair to push his head down where it had risen.

 

Severus was shocked that Ron held him there, as he shivered instantly from the end of the last pulse, letting his breathing return to normal whilst Ron’s own un-sated cock throbbed between their two stomachs.

  
“I’m sorry,” Severus muttered, closing his eyes to his own uncontrollable impulses.

“You’re not the one who can’t fucking manage to come,” Ron groaned. “I’ve… I don’t get it, Severus… I’ve fucked men nearly every day for the past three years of my life and now I’ve stopped and I can’t… it won’t…”

 

His voice had risen with panic and Severus forced himself upright to hover over Ron’s face. He placed a gentle kiss on his lips and shifted his hips back, detaching and trying not to think of what was dripping onto his sofa at that moment.

 

Severus kissed a path down Ron’s chest, holding his breath though he’d never admit it. It seemed as though with the cessation of his contract at the whorehouse, Ron had literally stopped dead in his tracks and not bothered to take care of _anything_. Severus knew from the pallor of his skin he’d been barely eating or drinking. There were bags under his eyes and a persistent yawn which meant he’d not been sleeping, either. And then there were the signs of physical neglect, the growing beard, the greasy hair and the smell of a body not washed for days compacted by the heat of a bed he’d barely moved from.

 

His stomach was strong but Severus didn’t particularly feel like testing it. He flung his arm out to the right and snatched his wand up off the coffee table and sent hygiene spells over the groin area in front of his face. If Ron was offended he didn’t comment, yet again, and Severus let his wand drop out of sight as he licked onto the wet cockhead.

 

The groan which met him was positively divine, and he licked again with the intent to provoke it once more. Rewarded, Severus gently slid his fingers around the base and levered his prize upward to better assault it, causing Ron’s hips to press upwards from the sofa.

 

“Let me fuck your mouth,” Ron hissed, sinking his hands into Severus’ hair and pressing his head downwards.

 

_And yes, with your cock in between my lips, I’m hard pushed to refuse, aren’t I?_

Severus ignored his sarcastic comment and willingly let Ron slide into his mouth, almost smiling at the delirious moan which floated up into the air.

 

“Yessss… oh, fuck. That’s going to…. Unnnnghfuck!” hips pressed upwards again and Severus fought down his urge to pin them to the sofa. “Sorry, I’ll…”

 

Ron pulled back slightly to a more comfortable length and then canted his hips forward. Severus wasn’t entirely sure what he should be doing with his teeth, it was rather hard to keep them out of the way as the thrusts grew more frantic. He sifted through his own memories of the oral stimulation Ron had given him to see if he could unearth any hints about whether the redhead would particularly care if teeth got involved.

 

“So close…” Ron hissed, and Severus noticed one of the redhead’s large hands massaging the base of his shaft beneath his chin.

 

Pulling up so only the head was encased in his lips, Severus licked with firm motions across the tip, tasting saltiness dribbling from the slit. He closed his eyes and tried to forget who he was, and what he was doing, focussing solely on the task at hand. He applied a gentle sucking force and moaned against the flesh, which made Ron moan in turn and the fingers in his hair became tender, massaging his scalp.

 

“Oh, Severus… so good… don’t stop, please don’t stop…” The voice was every bit as soft as the fingers.

 

Not for the first time, Severus found himself wondering on the subject of Ron’s sexuality. _Just because he had worked primarily with men doesn’t mean he’s gay… he said himself when he needed to get hard he thought of anything that worked… and yet…_

The grumbling moan which sounded then was enough to peak Severus’ curiosity even further. Spread out beneath him, legs bent slightly and hips gently moving against Severus’ mouth, there was no doubt that the redhead was aroused by what was happening to him.

 

_Hell, he turned up on my doorstep sizzling like he was in heat._

The thin hips jerked then and Severus was relieved to hear a series of gasps intermingled with low mumbles of obscenity, and then he tasted saltiness in a stronger form and licked against it.

  
“Fuck yes, gods… your tongue is… you’re… so fucking hot, Severus… I’m coming… ohh, shit, yes… I’m…”

 

The hips pressed up once more whilst Ron emptied himself into Severus’ mouth, and then he sagged back into the cushions, chest heaving. Severus swallowed and when he looked up he saw that Ron’s face had disappeared behind his hands.

 

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Severus raised up. “Ron? Are you...”

“Alright?” Ron muttered. “No, Severus, I’m not. Jesus, how can I be _so_ fucking horny and then take forever to come?”

 

Severus gently crawled on top of him, positioning his knees and elbows so that Ron wouldn’t have to take on too much of his weight. But his consideration was rendered futile when Ron’s hands flew from his face and clapped onto Severus’ back, arms forming a cage and pulling him down with a slap of connecting skin. And then Ron buried his face in his hair.

 

“Your body is just getting used to the changes of not having to perform every night,” Severus whispered. “It’ll take some time.”  
“I’m so… I want it _all_ the time.”  
“I know, remember, you’ve been here twice before,” he put the gentle reminder out that it was not the first time he’d been ambushed for sex in his own home.

 

Ron took a huge breath and let it out in a miserable sigh. “I’m sorry, Severus, I shouldn’t have come knocking on your door for my release.”

“If you’re idiotic enough to think that I mind, Weasley…” he forced some steel into his tone to remind Ron that he wasn’t going to tolerate an apology, something he’d laid down the first time he’d come knocking.

 

“You think its better you than someone random, right?” there was a miserable laugh in Ron’s voice.

“I _know_ it is better that way,” Severus corrected him, and placed a kiss on his lips. “Look. Why don’t you stay today? I have nothing better to do. It’s New Year’s Eve and my social calendar is, as ever, completely devoid of human company.”

“Well, my plan was to just lay in bed and get hideously drunk,” Ron raised his eyebrows morosely.  
“Then you can do that here. I’ll feed you, get you warm, and you can do what you like for the day…”

 

Ron didn’t say anything but fixed his eyes on a point over Severus’ shoulder. It was with great control that Severus didn’t ask him what was wrong; he knew there was little point in pushing the redhead to speak before he was ready. That would only achieve a repeat of the first day that they had come back together, when they had had their first real shouting argument. Severus couldn’t even particularly remember what had started it off.

 

_And you have no right to look upon that argument as any kind of relationship milestone, because this is not a relationship. No matter how much you would like it to be._

 

He swallowed hard and chased the latter thought out of his mind. Severus couldn’t deny that his feelings of concern for Ron had grown to the point where he could no longer call their acquaintance casual, but he wasn’t prepared for any further steps. Ron seemed even less ready for such a distinction.

 

But that didn’t stop the niggling worry Severus experienced looking down at his tired face and seemingly constant reddened eyes. He assumed Ron must have been crying, though he hadn’t in the time they’d spent together. Once more he had to bury his compulsion to question, to find out why the redhead was crying _–for the loss of his job? For the loss of his friends and life in general?_

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ron muttered.

“Like what?” Severus tried to cover his staring.

“Like you’re trying to get inside my head,” Ron sighed. “You can, if you want. Legilimens. To be honest, it’d be a lot less painful than actually telling you the answers.”  
“And would be what is commonly regarded as cheating,” Severus pointed out. “And the pain would find another way to get you; karma tends to work like that…”

“You believe in karma?” Ron raised in disbelieving eyebrow.  
“Why does that surprise you? What goes around comes around –it’s not a big mystery for the Ministry to solve, Ron… just an idea that’s been around forever.”

“And would my actions get me, hmm?” Ron looked up. “Whoring myself for a few years… letting men use me, not caring about anything…”

“I don’t know,” Severus shook his head and dropped his chin into his chest whilst his eyes fluttered downward.

 

“You’re so… different,” Ron said suddenly, and then laughed. “You’re not how I imagined you to be at all.”  
“You imagined me?” Severus raised an eyebrow. “Is this the part where you admit a teenaged infatuation with your greasy Potions Master, wishing I could have thrown you on my desk and had my wicked way with you?”

“It sounds like you’ve thought entirely too much about that situation, Severus,” Ron teased, his eyes sparking with warmth and his lips curling up into a smile. “But, no, at school, I hated your guts. And I did even as I thought you were dying. All I thought was ‘good riddance’.”

 

Severus flinched but couldn’t be angry. “You had every right to feel that way. You thought I was a traitor, and your reactions were only fair.”

“When Harry told me, that stuff, I didn’t really believe him. I thought somehow it’d all got mixed up… he hated you, you seemingly hated him… and then when… it happened,” an involuntary shiver passed through Ron’s body and his eyes closed. “And I heard that you’d been discovered alive in the Shack…”  


“I’d imagine,” Severus said softly when Ron trailed off. “That you wondered why they had died and I had survived, and questioned how that was fair?”

 

Ron licked his lips pensively and gave a shaky nod. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. That I thought that, that I was bitter that you’d been spared and they’d…”

 

Severus kissed him on the lips and nudged their noses together. “Nobody can comment on another’s grief, really… you were hurt, you were lost, and you were being bombarded by the press for comment when all anybody with a brain could see was that you wished you were gone too.”

 

“I was never really one for keeping my head in those sorts of situations,” Ron kept his eyes closed as his spoke, his voice low, and Severus waited for him to continue. “But I… well. It was no wonder that the leftovers were angry, the ones who had been promised the world and were given nothing but a one way ticket to Azkaban…”

 

Severus had thought Ron was talking about the press attention after the death of his best friends, but his heart lurched when he realised that the redhead was actually talking about the moment his friends had died.

 

“I don’t know why my wand was faster than theirs that day. I _wish_ I fucking knew why my shield charm was quicker, but why it failed and only protected me.”  
“When you are fighting Death Eaters,” Severus reached up to tuck some of Ron’s greasy hair behind his ear, “It is generally safer to assume that you are protecting only yourself. There is no reason that you should have had to protect Potter and Granger, unless there is something I do not know?”

 

“No, you know it all,” Ron shrugged. “The paper was pretty accurate. But you know us three… if we could, we’d give anything to help the other. If I could have, I would have taken the whole fucking war on my shoulders just to get it off Harry’s.”  


Severus said nothing about what he considered to be wasted loyalty. Harry Potter had been a marked man before his birth and there was nothing a gangly redhead could have done to change that.

 

“I know you think I’m mad,” Ron told him, eyes flicking open. “I know you don’t understand what I saw in him.”

“No, I don’t,” Severus admitted. “But, at the same time, I was glad for your loyalty, as that made my job easier. Especially with the sword. Your faithfulness was something I was counting on.”

 

Ron shuddered again then and sapphires were shut tightly away again. “Don’t remind me of that,” he breathed. “I spent so much time away from them because of my own stupidity, Severus. Too fucking self-doubting and it cost me time with them… with her…”

“Your regret over that situation is the base of a lot of your guilt…” Severus assessed.

“I will never forget her scream,” Ron’s voice wobbled significantly. “Ever. And his, it was just this shout, so gruff… Harry never sounded like that… even when his balls dropped he didn’t have the deepest voice in the world and it was just so… it didn’t sound like him. Made my denial easier, I suppose, to imagine it was a Death Eater that had died, that I’d open my eyes and find them both standing next to me…”

 

Severus made to answer but found his own throat suddenly full, and he couldn’t make the muscles work.

 

“So is this it, then?” he croaked finally. “You blame yourself? Because your shield failed?”

“Well… for a long time I did,” Ron admitted. “I suppose that’s what pushed me to run, the feeling that I’d failed them, you know? And everyone was telling me how _well_ I did, killing the bastards when I was all by myself afterwards. But I was just…”

“Driven to it by your anger,” Severus finished for him. “I know how that is, Ron.”

“I won’t say that it was the reason I became what I did,” Ron sighed. “Because I fell into that by accident and when it worked… I stayed…”  
“And it was a good way for you to hurt yourself.”

“Yeah.”

 

Severus hummed slightly, trying to decide what to say next. As he had Ron talking about things he had never voiced before, probably to anyone, he was loathe at the thought of stopping. But at the same time he didn’t want to push too much; he was no counsellor or even particularly sensitive and it would be easy to hurt the redhead further.

 

“You’re the first person I’ve ever…” Ron chewed heavily on his lip, teeth pulling at the roughened skin with hard pressure.

“Stop,” Severus chided. “You’ll make it bleed.”  


Ron stopped but picked it up again only a second later.

 

“You’re doing better than me,” Severus gave him a slight eyebrow rise. “That’s... well.”

“You haven’t talked either, I remember,” Ron fixed him with a penetrating gaze. “You know… when you killed Dumbledore, everyone was so shocked. Nobody could even think that maybe the mad old coot had planned it all out, that his trust in you was for a reason. That must have…”

“Hurt? Not particularly. Albus had long been the only person to trust me within the Order, and that wasn’t about to change with Potter’s attitude to me.”  
“And mine,” Ron flushed in his cheeks.

 

“This is the past,” Severus said finally, after a long pause of thinking just how attractive that blush was. “We do not need to discuss it beyond the grief you feel.”  
“We,” Ron corrected him. “We feel. If I’m spilling my guts, Snape, I’m not doing it alone.”

“Well I have no intention of spilling anything,” Severus assured him. “I have put this all behind me.”

“Good for you,” Ron snorted rudely. “The rest of us aren’t so lucky.”

“No, you ensured your family’s chances of forgetting were rather slim by disappearing,” Severus’ mouth shot the words out quicker than he could stop them. “Damn, Ron…”  
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” Ron whispered. “It’s the truth, and exactly the sort of cheap shot I deserve. Because you’re right… the hurt I must have put them through…”

 

“Are you not tempted?” Severus couldn’t help but voice his question. “Not tempted to go home now?”

“No,” Ron murmured. “I couldn’t. I know what I’ve done for the last three years… it would kill my mum to think of me doing that.”  
“So don’t tell her,” Severus looked him dead in the eye. “Your life is your own, Ron. And no matter how thin you are, or how ill you look, the past five years could remain private if you wanted them to. Although they rightly do have a stake in you, as your blood and kin… your returned presence might be enough for them to relinquish their claim on it, as it were.”

 

Ron swallowed hard and his voice was cracked when he spoke again, “Too hard, too much, Severus. Can’t.”

“Alright,” Severus conceded at his short answers, and kissed him again, “Whenever you need me.”

“Mm,” Ron murmured against his lips. “Really… without you…”  
“You’d still have your job in the brothel,” Severus reminded him with a droll look. “You shouldn’t get too attached to me. I have a habit of disappointing.”

“Only because your life’s been full of bollocks,” Ron sighed, and reached up to place his large hand against Severus’ cheek.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Severus heard the anxiety in his own voice.

“Might not answer,” Ron interpreted the tone correctly.

“Well… what… you worked with men. But before she was killed, you loved Granger, I’m correct?”

 

Ron gave a tense nod.  


“But when we… well. I know before me you saw your clientele as an unfeeling body that didn’t care about your satisfaction. When you needed to reach it for the sake of their desires, you said you thought of whatever worked to get you up and away. But when we…” he paused, cursing the damnable blush which sprang up on his cheeks and the wry smile which was Ron’s response. “Well. You don’t appear to have any trouble enjoying yourself with me.”

 

“No,” Ron shrugged. “With you it’s easy to come. Well, apart from the last few days but that’s just my sex drive complaining.”

“That’s just it… your… I can’t understand how you could have sex with men for so long if you didn’t enjoy it, even just a little. So are you straight? Gay? In the middle?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Ron’s face quirked into a grimacing smile. “Just another thorn in my side, trying to figure that one out. I think I could be with anyone that loved me enough, now.”

“You sound like me,” Severus muttered.

“Have you ever admitted you like sex with men to anybody else?” Ron asked interestedly.

 

Severus’ breath caught in his throat but he saw the expectant look on Ron’s face. The relationship between them was no longer that of teacher and pupil, where Severus could expect answers without having to justify his questions. He knew it was only fair to repay Ron in kind for the information he was giving. It didn’t make it any easier.

 

“No,” he swallowed. “Never. Though I believe that Albus may have suspected.”

“Why would he?” Ron frowned. “You’re incredibly straight acting, and trust me, I know, I’ve seen some right queens in my time.”

“… Well. Apparently, gay men just ‘know’,” Severus said carefully, fixing his eyes on Ron’s face to see if they were correctly understood.

“I fucking knew it,” Ron breathed triumphantly. “Ha. Christ. No wonder they all kicked up about how much he liked Harry.”

  
Severus laughed then, his head falling forwards and his hair flopping down into Ron’s face. “Not widely known, of course, but can you imagine the uproar?”

 

“What about you?” Ron asked then, his eyes narrowing in wonderment.

“What exactly about me?” Severus frowned, puzzled by his question.

“Well, Dumbledore wasn’t the only one that spent time cooped up alone with Harry…”

“Stop right there,” Severus warned him, his eyebrows rising with the threat. “Never. He looked far too much like his father to ever have the chance of catching my eyes… other than for his own, of course.”

“His eyes were beautiful,” Ron said softly, and looked away.

 

Severus thought on that and wondered what a strange thing it was to say, and how many other men commented on the beauty they saw in their best friend’s eyes.

 

“Ron?” He asked tentatively. “Did you… well? Forgive me; most men don’t tend to remark on their best friend’s eyes like that.”  


Ron coloured then and started chewing his lip again. “Maybe. I dunno. I only thought about it after he wasn’t there any more, you know? How much I missed him. Thinking about what he looked like, his hair, his eyes… I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

 

“All part of punishing yourself further,” Severus sighed. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I think my balls are considering packing a bag and moving to warmer climes. We should get dressed and I’ll get some food down you.”

“Ergh, off with the food, _again._ ”

 

Severus climbed off Ron and reached for his trousers, which still helpfully contained his underwear where Ron had yanked them down in a rush. He stepped into them and ran them up his thin thighs and did up the button. Only then did he notice that the redhead was watching him, and he froze.

  
“What?” Severus immediately became self-conscious and reached for his jumper.

“Don’t,” Ron rolled sideways and landed on his feet, straightening up to reach out his hands for Severus’ waist.

 

Severus let his arms fall down by his sides and waited for Ron to move or speak again. The warm hands sat just above the waistband of his trousers.

 

“I would never have guessed you were harbouring this sort of body beneath those robes you wore at school,” Ron whispered, close to his ear. “When your hair is down, and you’re just… half-dressed like this. That’s enough to bring down better men than me. It makes me wonder why you’re alone.”

“You know why,” Severus told him, elaborating no further feeling that he had already done so enough.

“Piss poor explanation, Severus. You are… you’re attractive in your own way. Get over it. Accept it. Fucking _embrace_ it and get yourself a partner who can love you.”

 

The large hands ran up his back then and Severus found himself shivering.

 

“Is there nobody at work?” Ron questioned, and Severus instantly became suspicious, wondering just what Ron was asking of him.

“Nobody,” Severus confirmed. “I would rather not complicate my hellish work life with a budding romance for the ministry gibbons to gossip about behind my back.”

“Hey, my dad and brothers work there,” Ron said, in a mock offended tone. “Not gibbons. Or they weren’t, last time I checked.”

 

“Look, where are you going with this?” Severus stepped back out of his hold and looked around for his socks.

“I’m just… when you look like that,” Ron waved a hand at him. “You’re almost a force of nature. I dunno, maybe it’s just me. I see you like that, with your hair all long and silky, and your shirt off, even with the Dark Mark… and I just _want_ you.”

 

“I’m going to put my jumper back on now,” Severus informed him, and threw it over his head.

 

Before he could lower it successfully, though, Severus felt the hands stroking his chest, working soft circles around his nipples and causing them to stiffen. One dropped to massage against his stomach and he moaned from within the woollen confines. He felt hot lips kiss each of the buds once before his face was freed as Ron tugged the jumper down and set it right about his waist.

 

“Do you ever wear anything other than black?” Ron asked teasingly, letting his fingers play with the hem.

“Are you going to wash anytime soon?” Severus arched an eyebrow in challenge.

 

Ron snorted. “What’s it to you?”  
“Well when men don’t wash after lounging around in bed for five days they tend to form some rather pungent odours.”  
“Are you saying I stink?” Ron made a face.

“Smell your own armpit; I’m fairly sure it would knock you out. And your stubble is remarkably coarse,” he reached a hand up and rubbed at his chin, which was somewhat sore from the abrasion during sex.

 

“Does it bother you?” Ron tilted his jaw upward, his lips in a strange kind of smirk.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you…”

“Do you know exactly how many minutes of the last three years I’ve spent keeping myself immaculately groomed?” Ron breathed. “Making sure there was hair only in the places that a man traditionally has fuzz? Conditioning my fucking long professionally cut style?” he flicked at his hair. “Shaving every single fucking day?”

 

Severus looked at him and saw the tired lines of his face, which were only shallow but they still seemed out of place considering his age.

 

“I just wanted to… to let myself go a bit,” Ron shrugged. “Sorry, though. I guess it’s not hard to use deodorant.”

“Its fine,” Severus shrugged, mirroring him. “Whatever you want to feel normal.”

“No, Sev,” Ron smiled then. “If I’m going to interrupt your morning by knocking on the door to beg you for a fuck, the least I could have done was make sure I was clean. Can I use your bath, please?”

 

“I feel awful now,” Severus groaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, running one hand up to cup at the nape of his neck. “Stay filthy if you want. I really don’t mind, I’ve seen worse.”

“Being grubby isn’t as satisfying as I thought it might be,” Ron admitted. “Sort of an anti-climax, y’know?”

 

“Bath’s all yours,” Severus gave him a tight smile and moved off into the kitchen.

 

He was surprised when Ron followed him and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on Severus’ shoulder. He thought about pulling away but simply placed his hands on top of Ron’s and they stood welded together, looking out of the back window.

 

“It’s lovely round here,” Ron commented. “Scenic.”

“Well, I didn’t buy this house for the view,” Severus snorted. “More the fact that the nearest neighbour is a mile away.”

“I can see why that’d be attractive,” Ron laughed gently. “But then I don’t like the thought of you being here all alone… if anything happened…”

“What, exactly, would happen?” Severus raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Well, you never know. Anything could,” Ron pointed out. “You could fall down the stairs and break your neck and nobody would have a clue.”

“Well, that is generally what tends to happen when you’re as sour in nature as I am,” Severus explained. “People _don’t_ care.”

“Malfoy would care,” Ron squeezed a little tighter.

“Well, if he could drag his face away from his mirror for long enough he would.”

 

Ron snorted and kissed hotly to Severus’ neck before he pulled away. “I’ll be in the bath. I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can do suicide check. I know you’ll just sit here and worry.”

“You’re learning,” Severus rolled his eyes. “What do you want to eat?”  
“Nothing,” Ron answered, clearly on instinct, because he then groaned. “Whatever you’re eating will be fine.”

 

Severus scowled at his lack of regard for his nutritional needs but held back the tongue-lashing he could have given. There was no point; it hadn’t worked the first three times so he had no reason to believe a fourth would sink in. He would just keep feeding unthinkably large portions whilst he had the power.

 

“You were heading to the bath,” he reminded Ron pointedly.

“So I was. Can I use your-”

“Whatever you want,” Severus assured him. “And remember that the taps are cock-eyed before you fill your bath with cold water.”

“You’re a wizard; why the fuck don’t you just change the labels on the taps?” Ron laughed.

“It is always good keep one’s mind working with trivial games, I suppose,” Severus smiled. “At least, it’s a nice cover for being too indolent to bother.”

 

Ron’s deep laugh lingered long after the redhead had gone up the stairs.

 

 

 

Severus was making lunch an hour later, his sleeves pushed back to the elbow as he peeled potatoes by hand. He scraped the knife downwards curling the skin off and jumped as there was a very loud thudding on the door, causing the blade to slice through the flesh joining his thumb to his hand.

 

“Fuck!” His swear word was bitter as his hand flew to his mouth, setting it to suck at the wound before the blood could drip anywhere.

 

 _Who the fuck is that?_ He moved to the door, listening for any sounds of Ron having left the bath, but there was nothing. Nobody ever visited him at home. He swung open the door, hand still to his lips, and nearly groaned.

 

“So, you’re not dead then,” Draco grimaced. “Your Floo was blocked.”

“With good reason,” Severus glared. “I didn’t want visitors.”

“Well, tough,” Draco growled. “You’ve been holed up here for the whole holiday. When was the last time you saw another person?”

“Yesterday,” Severus answered. “I went out for food.”

“Oh, wonderful, you’ve kept a sparkling social calendar, then,” Draco laughed, and before Severus could stop him he pushed his way through the door and walked into the living room.

 

Ron’s clothes were still strewn about the floor where they had fallen in their haste that morning. Severus tried to estimate approximately how long he had before Draco noticed.

 

“Tut tut, Severus, your standards are slipping?” Draco’s grey eyes alighted on the crumpled clothes, and he looked back to Severus. “Though… well, they’re not your colour.”

 

He turned back fully. “Is someone here?”

 

 _Shit._ Caught red-handed – _heh, and redheaded-_ Severus didn’t see how he could lie. But he could try for damage control.

 

“So who is she?” Draco smirked. “That woman from Magical Reversal you like to gaze at when you don’t think I’m looking?”

“No,” Severus glared at him. “You don’t know the person.”

 

“Well, do tell,” Draco turned and dropped onto the sofa, which Severus realised had never been cleaned from their last round; he choked on his laughter when all of a sudden Ron’s voice shouted down the stairs, unbelievably low, manly and sexy.

 

“Severus, where the fuck’re your towels, I’m freezing my bollocks off up here!”

 

Draco’s jaw dropped before he managed to cultivate it into an infuriatingly smug look of smiling disbelief.

 

“In the bedroom,” Severus called back, his face burning as his eyes dropped to the floor.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting _that_ ,” Draco got back to his feet.

 

“What?” Ron shouted confusedly down the stairs. “I didn’t hear what you said the second time.”

“Just… give me a minute, someone’s, ah, here to visit. I’ll be up in a second.”

 

Ron fell deadly quiet and Severus could just imagine how he would have frozen at those words. Draco walked closer then.

 

“Are you gay?” His eyebrows rose in genuine surprise.

“Sometimes,” Severus muttered.

“Well, whatever gets you going, I suppose,” Draco’s eyes flicked up and down his body. “No wonder you’re so secretive, Severus. You’re bleeding on the floor, just so you know.”

  
Severus had forgotten his cut hand in all the drama.

  
“Are you going to introduce me?” Draco asked expectantly with a taunting grin, lacing his fingers together in front of his slender waist.  
“Certainly not,” Severus yanked open the front door. “Out.”  
“As polite as ever,” Draco sighed. “Well, have a good night.”

 

Severus hated the leering expression which came over his godson’s face then, it reminded him of Lucius drunk and flirting.

 

“Though I’m sure if he’s already got his clothes off, you will do regardless of my good wishes.”

“I’ll see you at work on Monday,” Severus growled.

“And we will be talking about this in very _great_ detail, Severus,” Draco told him.

 

Severus made to slam the door in his face the second the blonde was over his threshold, but some parting words stopped him.

 

“Just thought you’d like to know I’m engaged,” Draco’s voice was both airy and exasperated at the same time.

 

Severus threw the door back open. “What?” He broke his lips off his bleeding skin.

“Engaged, as of Christmas Day,” something akin to a blush broke out on Draco’s porcelain face. “I’ve been trying to get in contact ever since, but you’ve been out of reach.”

 

Momentarily stunned into silence, Severus immediately felt guilty for neglecting his duties as a godfather. “Congratulations,” he pulled himself together. “That’s a little…”

“Quick?” Draco finished for him. “Yes. But these things happen when you have too much champagne. I don’t regret it. She’s perfect.”

Severus laughed. “And where is she now?”

“In the Swiss Alps,” a glum look came over Draco’s face. “With her family, skiing. Honest to Merlin, Severus, what a waste of time, all it is is swishing about on the snow. Ridiculous.”

“So what are your plans for this evening, then?”

 

“I was hoping you would come out for a drink with me to celebrate someone pledging to make an honest man out of me, but I see you are otherwise engaged,” Draco gave him another leering wink. “I’ll occupy myself somehow, I suppose.”

 

“Come here,” Severus muttered, and pulled him into a one-armed hug whilst he held the other out to avoid dripping blood on the expensive cloak Draco wore.

“This is the first time you’ve hugged me in years,” Draco assessed. “I think Mr. Mystery is doing you some good.”

 

“Shut up and get the hell off my property,” Severus pulled back, gave Draco a smirk, and closed the door again.

 

He didn’t speak until he had seen his godson disapparate in the road outside the ward perimeter, and then he turned, mouth sucking at the cut which simply refused to stop bleeding, and flew up the stairs to the bathroom.

 

Ron was sitting with a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with his wand. “Who was that?” he asked immediately.

 

Severus noticed he was clean and pink from the heat of the bath, and the stubble was gone. He couldn’t deny he preferred the groomed version far better. _Shallow bastard._

“Draco,” Severus sighed. “He came to tell me he was engaged. I was trying to disguise you as a female and then you just happened to yell out with that delightful comment about your bollocks and it all went rather to pot, I’m afraid. Thanks to you I am now officially out to my godson.”

 

Ron burst out laughing then, nearly falling off the edge of the bath in his merriment. “Oh, can you just imagine Malfoy’s face if he knew it was me?”

“If you think that’s funny, try the fact that he sat on my sofa… only a few centimetres away from what you’ve just washed off the back of your thighs…”

 

The rich laughter filled the tiny bathroom and Severus couldn’t help his own tiny dark chuckle as he crossed it to throw open the steamed up window. Outside the day was surprisingly clear but unbelievably nippy.

 

“What did you do your hand?” Ron gestured to it.

“Cut it in shock when he knocked on the door.”

“And you’re sucking on it because?”

“Getting it to stop bleeding,” Severus frowned, and frowned deeper at Ron’s answering tut. “What?”

 

“Are you a fucking wizard or not?” Ron laughed, and got to his feet with his wand out to heal the cut.

 

***

“God, you’re good,” Ron breathed, letting his head fall back on the sofa, one hand gently massaging over his stomach.

 

“You only say that because you’ve lived off absolute rubbish for the past five years of your life,” Severus rolled his eyes, lifting his glass of whiskey to his lips. “If you remember what you lived on before that, I’m sure my paltry cooking efforts would come up wanting.”

“Can you _ever_ take a compliment?” Ron sighed.

 

Severus drank some more and didn’t bother to answer –Ron already knew it. After the redhead seemed sufficiently dry from his bath, Severus had neglected lunch in favour of talking him into a walk, claiming that the fresh air would do him the world of good. Not that Severus particularly wanted to go tramping along the frozen country lanes surrounding his house, but all the same he thought the change of scenery would be beneficial for Ron. It had been, for the most part; after an hour in the brisk air he had become more animated, talking freely with Severus as they whiled away the time. The cold had finally driven them back to his cottage as the sun began to set, and still a good mile away from the house, Ron had done something which had warmed the both of them up.

 

_Stupid… minor action… doesn’t mean anything affectionate…_

The words churned around Severus’ mind as he sat and took another sip of whiskey. Ron had flicked him a look from beneath his long fringe, blinked prettily, and slid his fingers through Severus’, locking them together.

 

They had walked the rest of the way home like that, and it wasn’t particularly surprising that neither of them said a word until they had relinquished their grip on each other and re-entered the cottage. Severus had busied himself with making dinner whilst Ron had sunk onto the sofa, the cat on his lap and a book in his hands, until he offered up his help and was stuck on vegetable duty.

 

The dinner having been made, eaten, and thoroughly appreciated, time found them sitting as they currently did. Ron was sprawled on the sofa, the colour in his cheeks a healthy glow, whilst Severus sat on the floor feeding the fire logs.

 

“You live a fairly muggle life,” Ron commented, eyes in his whiskey.

“I suppose,” Severus shrugged. “I have to confess, though, that my love of non-magical log fires must be some primal base man instinct to build and sustain fire.”  
“Fire burn, fire good,” Ron mocked in primitive low grunts, and Severus threw him a filthy look for taking the piss.

“Even better,” he turned back to the flames. “Fire can cook food.”

“Fire also burns trout to a gross charred mess,” Ron laughed, and knocked back some more.

 

The rate they were going, Severus knew, would see them brutally inebriated long before the chimes of midnight rang out from the clock on the wall. Between them they’d already had wine with dinner and had started on whiskey with dessert. He was feeling pleasantly buzzed and his body was warm.

 

 _And your hand is still stinging where he held it contentedly down that beautifully tranquil country lane…_ Severus’ inner self was gagging himself sticking his finger down his throat. His outer self, in the mean time, was quite pleased with the way their walk had turned out.

 

“I love your house,” Ron said happily, looking around the living room.

 

Severus had frozen at ‘I love’ and nearly dropped the log he was holding. Recovering himself, he plopped it into the burning mass and turned, still seated, his knees bent up and ankles crossed. He rested his elbows on his knees, one hand propping up his chin, the other holding his drink. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sat so casually in front of anybody.

 

“Well, it is rather pleasing, I’ll admit,” he shrugged slightly.

“I’d love a house like this,” Ron stretched out. “So homey and… well. You can imagine someone living here. Maybe not _you…”_ He teased.

“You would be so rude to a man who has just stood and slaved over your dinner?”

“You make a wonderful house-maid,” Ron toasted him with his glass and ducked as Severus seized a Potions journal from the coffee table and lobbed it at him.

 

“Remember upon whose sofa your arse sits, Weasley, and how once upon a time you would never have dared cross him,” Severus growled, in an almost playful manner.

 

_Oh, sweet Morgana’s flaps I’m pissed already. Wonderful. Playful for fuck’s sake!_

“You’re so funny when you don’t want to be as nice as you are,” Ron smirked at him. “You get this look on your face which sort of highlights the mental battle you’re having: be a twat, or be fun.”

“And which do you prefer me to be?”

“Well,” Ron pretended to think about it. “I generally prefer you to be fun. Except, of course, when you’re doing your best superwizard impression and rescuing me from a seedy brothel. Then I like you to be deadly serious and somewhat threatening…”

 

Severus took the first joke he’d heard from Ron’s lips about what had happened on Christmas Day with as much good grace as he could muster through his shock.

 

“Well, I thought it called for a little dramatic flair, didn’t you? You’re empty,” he nodded at Ron’s glass and summoned the whiskey bottle to top him up.

“Getting me pissed?” Ron raised an eyebrow.

“Well, isn’t that what one is supposed to do on New Year’s Eve, get drunk and have a completely inappropriate sexual liaison to kick off the New Year with spectacular regret?”

 

Ron snorted through his mouthful and Severus had to laugh at his own pessimism too.

 

“I wouldn’t have had you down for someone going out and hooking up,” Ron commented, looking into the amber liquid, almost nervously.

“Well, I’ve never made a habit of it,” Severus replied quietly.

 

“We don’t know one another,” Ron said suddenly, looking up with alarmed eyes. “We’ve done so much, I’m pretty convinced I know every intimate nook and cranny of your body and yet… I don’t know your middle name; I don’t know your favourite book… Does that seem as weird to you as it does to me?”

“Not particularly,” Severus made a face. “I am used unfamiliarity with my acquaintances. You, on the other hand, are overly friendly and warm, so I suppose it _would_ be unsettling to you to have such little knowledge of your evening’s companion.”

 

“That’s not true,” Ron shook his head vehemently. “I was a whore, you forget, so many faces in a night, no time to ask them all their deepest and darkest secrets.”

“Well, that is a fair point, but _you_ forget your other relationships,” Severus slipped in the unmarked question with sly ease.

“You think being a whore left time for a relationship with anybody?” Ron laughed. “And Christ, where d’you think I’d find someone stupid enough to willingly go out with a rentboy?”

 

“Another rentboy,” Severus lifted his eyebrows. “Someone who understood your situation…”

“That doesn’t happen,” Ron assured him. “Blokes don’t do that. Too much client stealing for it.”

“You seem altogether too nice for such an unpleasant lifestyle,” Severus looked down at the floor.

“Well, yeah. But I made it for a long time till you fucked it up for me,” he pointed out. “And I was the most popular whore there…”

“It surprises me that she sacked you,” Severus muttered for the first time.  
“Well, yeah,” Ron sighed. “I never believed she really would. She threatened, gave me chances to embrace the protection, but I just thought my revenue was so high she’d keep me no matter what. Guess I was wrong. But then Ministry really had been digging, lately, and she’d been running scared for a few weeks. I think your increased visits only put her back up more, to be honest.”

 

“I suppose I should feel guilty,” Severus looked up at him. “But I don’t.”

“I don’t think I would, either,” Ron assured him. “It’s hard, because I really do resent what happened, and I resent you for it… but then I know why you acted, and that you did it all for me… you could have been hurt that night.”

“I doubt that very much,” Severus scoffed.

 

“Severus, I fought off five Death Eaters, by myself, after having watched my best friends die. That’s pretty accomplished, right?”

“Yes,” Severus conceded.  
“And yet, you’ve seen the marks on my back…” Ron’s voice grew quieter. “You put yourself at risk for me, Severus, which was…” he shrugged a little. “Something I should have been thanking you for rather than treating you like shit.”

“You were in shock,” Severus sipped his drink. “I expected you to be far ruder than you were.”

 

They fell into awkward silence and as one they both raised their glasses and took a deep drink. Ron noticed and snorted at their unison.

 

“So what would you like to do for the evening?” Severus asked, trying to steer the conversation back into shallower waters.

“Um, I dunno,” Ron licked his lips. “Sort of too full to move after your shameless food shovelling.”

“I feed you when I’ve got you,” Severus shrugged. “I wish I could make you eat all the time, then you wouldn’t be sporting that half-starved look.”

“I’ve been pretty shit about everything the past few days,” Ron admitted. “I should make more of an effort, I know.”

 

Severus groaned with exertion as he heaved himself up off the floor, his hips giving him grief from the youthful pose he had adopted. “Gods, I need to remember I’m not twenty any more,” he muttered, dragging his feet as he forced his legs to walk to the sofa, which he dropped down on next to Ron.

 

“Problems?” Ron asked. “Anything I can massage to make better?”

“No, hip massage is somewhat odd, don’t you think?” Severus sighed with regret. “I should take something for it, probably, but that would be admitting defeat.”

“And you say _I_ punish myself,” Ron threw him a sarcastic glare, and carefully balanced his whiskey on the arm of the chair, and then he patted his thighs.

“What?” Severus asked him confusedly.

“Feet or head, whichever you’d prefer,” Ron yawned.  
“To what?” Severus wondered what he was missing.

“Massage, you fucking numpty!”

 

Colouring significantly, Severus glowered at the insult but shifted so his back leant against the arm rest and lifted his feet into Ron’s lap, feeling extremely exposed.

 

“You’ve gone all tense,” Ron sighed. “What is it?”

“I have not,” Severus insisted. “Shut up and put your hands to good use.”

 

Ron threw him a lingering look and then did as he was asked, encasing one of Severus’ thin feet in his ever-hot hands. Severus let himself slide down in the seat slightly and bit back his moan of pleasure as a thumb gently rubbed circles into the ball of his foot.

 

“Guessing this is the first time you’ve done this, right?” Ron asked quietly, beginning to move the circling pad up each individual toe.

 

Severus grunted his answer and let his eyes shut to better enhance the sensations.

 

Ron worked in silence then, sensing Severus’ unwillingness to chat and began testing what pressure he could apply where. Nothing was too hard, Severus found, except for what had grown in his underwear in response to Ron’s actions, a problem which only grew worse when the redhead switched to the other foot.

 

“You should buy baggier trousers if you want to hide your erections,” Ron spoke and Severus could just tell of the smile in his tone without even opening his eyes.

“Shut up and work,” he tried to sound commanding but his voice was a moan as Ron gripped his ankle and flexed his foot back and forth, loosening the tendons. “How on earth did you get to be so good at this?”

 

“I was a whore,” Ron replied, as though that answered everything.

“So what?” Severus opened his eyes and looked at him.

“I’ve seen all sorts of fetishes,” Ron paused for a moment and took a large gulp of drink and Severus followed suit.

“Do go on, this should make for interesting listening,” he shifted so that his back was better positioned on the flat of the seat cushion. “As they are no longer your clients I expect you to be perfectly honest.”

 

Ron laughed and set the glass down before wrapping his hands around his podiatric canvas again, making sweet, beautiful artwork with the brushstrokes of his fingers.

 

“Well, obviously, there was a pretty serious foot fetish,” Ron looked down at what he was holding. “Massage, licking… anything really… If you’ve ever wondered what come feels like in between your toes…don’t bother.”

“What, so he wanted to-”

“Yep,” Ron nodded.

“And he got off on your-”

“Yup,” Ron’s lips were tugging up into a grin.

“How did you keep a straight face?!”

“I’m thinking of going into acting,” Ron winked and then burst into regaling laughter.

 

“So, what else?” Severus took a large gulp whilst looking at Ron, fascinated.

“Hmm, there was a guy who had a big thing for women’s underwear,” Ron chewed on his lip.

“… So, why didn’t he just go to a female then?”

“Well, because he liked the thought of _men_ in women’s underwear.”

“And how do you suit a bra and knickers, then?” Severus snorted.

“For your _information_ ,” Ron sniffed airily, “It was a corset, suspenders and fishnet stockings. And I looked bloody fetching.”

 

Severus stared at the redhead with wide eyes, unsure whether he was allowed to laugh or not. “But… well, I’m sure I shall give myself and my heterosexual preferences away here, but aren’t breasts rather essential for a corset to look pleasant?”

“Well, yeah. But fuck, that thing hurt. And when I took it off I had the imprint of the back lacing there for the rest of the night, I swear it actually squashed my ribs down a few inches.”

“I frankly cannot believe you let a man do that to you,” Severus drained his glass and immediately re-filled it.

“What, so you’ve never pissed around in the past, put on a woman’s pair of knickers? Come on, Sev, I’d done that even _before_ I became a whore, when someone’s undies got caught up in the boy’s laundry at Hogwarts.”

“You did that willingly?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“No, I was dared,” Ron screwed up his face in admission. “Wear them all day, moon someone –anyone- and then I… oh…”

 

Ron shut up instantly and his cheeks burned a dull red colour, leaving Severus peering at him in confusion.

 

“And then what?”

“Well, the past is the past I suppose… whoever completed the dare got the, uh, stolen fantasy potion… lifted from the Potions Master’s private stores, and the benefit of a silencing spell around their bed.”

 

Severus froze for a moment, his mouth falling slightly open, before the laughter bubbled up his windpipe and he choked on it, nearly slopping his whiskey all over his front. “Oh, gods.”

“What?” Ron asked, clearly unnerved by the lack of an angry response.  
“I was instructed to keep those Potions there,” Severus snorted. “Do you really think I would be so imbecilic as to leave my proper store so wilfully unprotected?”

“I never actually broke into it,” Ron looked up innocently.

“It wasn’t hard,” Severus waved a hand. “Albus asked me to. School full of randy teenagers, having them steal a fantasy potion was better then having the rutting in the hallways… unlike when _I_ was at school,” he added a lascivious wink to the end of his sentence.

 

“How much of that have you had?” Ron asked suspiciously, looking at the glass in Severus’ hand. “You’re too happy about that admission.”

“Seriously, Weasley, it wasn’t a big drama. And in answer to your question, no, I have never worn women’s underwear and do not plan to –in my opinion despite the aesthetic effect it always looked excessively uncomfortable.”

“It is,” Ron assured him. “The word cheesewire comes to mind.”

 

Severus laughed again and took another mouthful.

 

“I know what we could do!” Ron said brightly, his eyes twinkling in a way which immediately worried Severus. “Have you got any Veritaserum?”

“If I did, why would you want it?”

“Well, we’re bored. It’s a long time till midnight. A fun game to play –dose our drinks with the tiniest drop of serum and then play truth or dare.”

 

“I am in my forties, Weasley, what makes you think I have any inclination to play a ridiculous drinking game?”

“It’s not a drinking game, it’s just a game,” Ron tried to tempt him with a tantalising tone. “Come on, Severus, live a little.”

“I don’t think so,” Severus put him off and made a grimace. “There are many things in my mind which it would not do for you know.”

“Well, we’ll make a truce then, we’ll keep the questions solely to a sexual nature,” Ron winked.

 

Severus looked at him, and the glow on his face, and realised just how much the young man must have missed having companions his own age, and his brothers for the sort of mischievousness he was now displaying. It was almost enough to make him agree straight off.

 

“Hmm, I have a lesser version of Veritaserum,” Severus mused, tapping one long index finger against the rim of his glass. “It is not so potent and the effects do not last as long. Plus, there is the added bonus that if you move to speak something you have promised to keep quiet to another, then you are prevented from doing so.”

 

“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Ron frowned.

“Of course you haven’t,” Severus smirked. “Because I haven’t sold the rights to it yet.”

 

Ron looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I’m impressed. Patenting new potions, no wonder you could afford me, Snape.”

“Well, I didn’t like to brag,” Severus snorted. “But yes, essentially, my hard work in the potions lab paid for our little trysts. I consider you as satisfying as any other reward I could have purchased with the money… especially now that I no longer have to purchase you at all.”

 

Smiling, Ron took another mouthful. “So, if we use your potion, will you consent to play with me?”

“I suppose,” Severus groaned inwardly, wondering what on earth he was committing himself to. “If it would please your incredibly small and juvenile mind.”

“It would,” Ron assured him.

 

Severus summoned the potion and flicked open the hinged stopper, and dropped a drip in each of their glasses before sending it away again. He raised his glass to Ron before knocking it back, and Ron followed suit. He refilled their drinks.

 

“How long before it takes effect?” Ron asked with a smile.

“Did you enjoy wearing the women’s underwear?” Severus narrowed his eyes.

“Yes –oh!” Ron gasped, his face flaming in embarrassment. “Damn!”

 

Severus snorted into his glass and took a mouthful.

 

“Do you have any fetishes?” Ron shot back.

“Silk and lace, oh, and sex toys that buzz,” Severus blurted, before his face flooded with colour and he buried his face in his hand. “Fuck.”  
“We should have played this when you first came to me,” Ron giggled, his words slurring slightly. Severus wasn’t surprised after downing his last glass like he had.

 

The redhead turned towards him, shifting his leg up beneath his body. “Your turn again, Severus.”

“What was the oldest man you slept with working as a whore?”

“Errrrrm, fuck. About… well,” Ron made a face whilst he calculated. “Might I stipulate that he looked _much_ younger, but he must have been about seventy.”

“Fuck, Weasley, and here I was feeling old and decrepit.”

“I did tell you not to worry,” Ron snorted through a mouthful of whiskey. “Have you got anything to mix this with, my throat’s raw from drinking it straight?”

“Pansy,” Severus muttered, but summoned a bottle of lemonade from the kitchen all the same.

“Thanks,” Ron watched it fill. “My turn… hmmm… so, about those sex toys, what do you have?”

 

Severus spluttered on his mouthful and felt the potion working for him. He suddenly regretted ever suggesting his lessened creation –it wasn’t _that_ lessened. “Uh, a few cock rings and a plug,” he muttered, face on fire once more.

“Oh, hush,” Ron waved a hand at his embarrassment. “Severus, come on, this is me. I’m a fucking whore,” he laughed. “I’ve seen everything. Used everything.”

 

“Alright then,” Severus turned the tides. “What have you had up your arse which wasn’t attached to a man’s body?”

“Dildos, plugs, beads and at one time what I think was a courgette. Might have been a cucumber.”

“Why?!” Severus asked in horror.

“Man had a thing for using vegetables in sex,” Ron answered as though he was commenting on something far more normal than a man using greenhouse produce during intercourse.

 

Severus sat stunned and couldn’t get any words out. When he finally did manage to speak, it was to ask, “Was it short, thick and had sort of light green speckles on the skin?”

“Yeah!” Ron nodded.

“Then it was a courgette. Christ.” He took a large gulp of whiskey to settle his stomach.

 

 

They carried on like that, the questions sliding deeper and deeper into their personal wants and desires, but they carried on laughing throughout as the whiskey continued to flow and it was joined around an hour and a half later by the box of chocolates Ron had gifted to Severus on Boxing Day.

 

“The point of giving someone a gift is that they enjoy it,” Ron rolled his eyes, fingers hovering over the box to choose one.

“Hurry up and decide, brat,” Severus yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand holding the whiskey.

“I don’t know why I even bother to consider, really,” Ron laughed, and picked up his chocolate.  
“Bastard, I was going for that one.”

“Never had you down for a strawberry cream man,” Ron instantly held it out to him.

“This box has two layers, I’ll have the other,” Severus shook his head.

“I love these,” Ron peeled it out of the rustling paper wrapper and raised it to his lips. “And now, Mr. Snape, you will learn the correct way to eat a cream filled chocolate.”

 

Severus watched as the redhead broke his teeth into the chocolate shell, never closing his lips fully. A glistening tongue moved the broken half into his mouth and then expertly curled out to bat against the leaking pink goo oozing from the broken sweet.

 

“Sweet Jesus you’re giving that poor chocolate the tonguing of its life,” Severus breathed, his dick shooting to life in his pants as he watched Ron devour it.

“Uh-huh,” Ron breathed, chewing slowly before licking his lips and sucking his fingers clean. “You’re hard again, Severus.”

“Just as you fucking intended,” Severus growled at him, shoving his hand down past the waistband of his trousers to re-arrange his burgeoning erection.

“Ah, the primitive nature of man,” Ron snorted. “You know, I’ve often thought… it must be so much easier living with a bloke than a bird.”

 

Severus raised an eyebrow and silently bid him to go on, selecting his own chocolate from the box.

 

“Well, for example, a bloke’s going to understand the simple comfort of sitting there with your balls in your hand,” Ron gestured to Severus’ crotch, which made him realise that he had not removed his hand, but left his fingertips gently grazing the hot skin of his cock.

“Very true,” Severus acknowledged with his whiskey glass.

“And, what’s more, a bloke’s going to understand how, when you’re about to come, it’s fucking hard to stop, and shouting ‘no, wait, I forgot the protection spell!’ isn’t going to be enough to send down the shutter and being viciously pushed out, hurts.”

 

Severus laughed and threw his head back. “You’re very right again. And who did that to you?”

“Lavender fucking Brown,” Ron growled.

“Ah, yes, I remember that, I remember you being poisoned and ending up in the hospital wing with the girls fighting at the door.”  
“Oh, don’t exaggerate. Ooh, thought of a question!” Ron lit up, realising they had seemingly digressed from their game. “How many students were ever in love with you at Hogwarts?”

 

Severus did a mental tally. Even he’d been surprised. A cruel smirk blossomed onto his lips, the alcohol aiding him in remembering something he had long forgotten. “Around ten in all, and you knew one of them extremely well.”

“Oooh, who?” Ron asked excitedly, bouncing with happiness that the whiskey afforded him.

“Well, let’s just say… no, I can’t, it’s too cruel,” Severus finished dramatically, but took a nonchalant sip of whiskey and turned his sneer to the fire.

“Who, someone in my dormitory? Or…”

“Someone a little closer to home,” Severus hinted.

 

Ron frowned at that. “How close to… oh. _Oh._ C’mon then, which brother was it, and how did you find out?”

“It was actually rather devastating how it came out,” Severus conceded, looking back at Ron. “Your brother accidentally inhaled the fumes from a specific love potion which made him blab all of his fancies to the class. He didn’t live it down for weeks.”

“Who?!” Ron demanded impatiently. “Oh, Christ, it’s not Percy, is it?”

“Your brother was so uptight I’m not sure he even had an arsehole to stick anything up,” Severus said bluntly and Ron nearly asphyxiated on his laughter. “It was Charlie, if I recall correctly. It made Potions lessons extremely difficult.”

“But he took Potions NEWT,” Ron frowned. “I remember because he always spent a lot of time…. Oh… studying.”

 

Severus looked at Ron, took another mouthful, and said a very sarcastic, “Awh.”

 

“Hey, you leave off, it’s hard fancying someone and never being able to do anything about it because you’re crippled with fear,” Ron chided.

“Oh, yes, because I know absolutely _nothing_ about that,” Severus scathed.

“Did you never tell her you loved her?” Ron asked quietly, his voice taking a sudden lurch towards sombre.

“I think she always knew. And in any case, it was not her I was talking about,” Severus said before he realised that if Ron asked who, then he would be bound to answer by the potion. And the answer to the question was something Severus had hoped to carry to the grave with him.

 

“Spill it, who was your unrequited crush?” Ron steamed straight ahead.

 

Severus groaned with embarrassment and chucked the rest of his glass down his throat. “Shift,” he muttered, lifting his legs up and dislodging Ron’s arms, which were encircled around his feet even though the massage was long forgotten. “I’ll… show you.”

 

_And then I’ll walk into the kitchen, pick up a knife and slit my throat with it for the shame._

Shaking his head slightly, Severus got to his feet and wobbled significantly.

 

“Oh, you’re pissed,” Ron snorted, and then let out a loud belch.

“You really are charming,” Severus stumbled over to one of his bookshelves and tried to find what he was looking for. “In my day, when you left Hogwarts, you got a sort of book at the end of it which was specific to your year, had pictures and things of everybody, pieces about memorable events and such.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Bill’s and Charlie’s…” Ron remembered. “I always wanted one, but then I didn’t get a seventh year at Hogwarts, did I, so I technically didn’t finish.”

 

Severus finally located the old book and yanked it off the shelf in distaste. He walked back to the sofa, his feet dragging, and chucked it down in between them.

 

“Guess,” Severus waved at it, pouring himself another drink, even though from the way the room was blurry and his limbs felt wonderfully free, he knew he should stop.

 

Ron set upon the book with a huge grin on his face, flicking to the House pictures, where there was first a house photograph with the Head of House and then a separate picture of each student.

 

“I’m glad they put an end to those blasted things before you started,” Severus grumped. “Meant I didn’t have to sit for the pictures every year.”

“Miserable bastard,” Ron snorted and turned the page to the Gryffindor section. “Oh!”

 

Severus saw his blue eyes alight with interest over the 1978 Gryffindor males and his fingers brushed gently over Remus Lupin’s picture. The werewolf smiled up at him. Severus followed the sapphires to Sirius’ picture, which gave a saucy wink and patted down his hair.

  
_Fucking beautiful ponce._ Severus almost sighed looking at the picture.

 

“God,” Ron breathed, his face suddenly paler. “Harry really did look so much like him.”

“Mm,” Severus took a deep slurp of whiskey to avoid the subject of James Potter. “And there’s Lily.” He pointed to the opposite page with the girls on it.

“She was beautiful,” Ron’s smile was sad. “No wonder you were in love with her, Severus.”

“Lily had more than just looks,” Severus sighed. “She was just… the sort of person that when you spoke to her, you felt like the most important person in the world. I wasn’t the only one that found her that way.”

 

“I always wondered whether Remus…” Ron looked back at his picture.

“At first, I thought so too, they were good friends. I think she might have known about his lycanthropy before his other friends did. She was like that, she had no idea of the pre-concepts of our world, and she had no idea why anyone should look down upon another simply because of a curse.”

“But she did believe in looking down on others because of their choices,” Ron voiced softly. “Even when they were friends she had had for years.”

 

“You disapprove of the way she treated me?” Severus asked with interest. “You think she should have forgiven me my many sins?”

“I don’t think… well. I guess looking back at it, now, with the loss I’ve felt… I can’t imagine cutting anybody off purely because of their actions, of losing a friend through choice…”

 

Severus said nothing and Ron took it as his cue to shut up and move on.

 

“So, your unrequited crush,” he spoke again.        

 

Severus had quite lost any sense of playfulness they had attained, and the alcohol swirling in his gut took a new hold in his mind, a depressive fog creeping pervading through all of his thoughts. He suddenly remembered why he never looked at his school yearbook.

 

“He’s on that page,” Severus muttered, waving his hand at the Gryffindors, before falling back into the sofa and covering his hand with his eyes.

 

Ron surprised Severus then by closing the book and getting to his feet, placing it back on the bookshelf where it had been pulled from. Without another word he walked back to the sofa, settling himself on it sideways, one long leg trailing off onto the floor whilst his other foot worked behind Severus’ backside.

 

“C’mere,” Ron reached for him, and Severus let himself be pulled to sit back-to-chest between his legs. And then in a wonderful show of sensuality, Ron hooked them over Severus’, keeping him in place, and then put comforting arms tightly about his torso.

 

Severus relaxed into his hold and felt the gentle pressure of a chin digging into his shoulder. He leant his head back against Ron and closed his eyes, savouring the warmth of everything –the room, Ron’s arms, and the whiskey in his gut. Severus felt warm lips kissing just beneath his ear.

 

“Why do you always know the right thing to do to set me at ease?” Severus murmured, feeling rather sleepy.

“I was a whore,” Ron whispered back. “It was my job to make men feel good, to make them feel at peace… I just learned. Nobody’s ever held you this way in your life, have they?”

“No,” Severus admitted softly, feeling the room spin behind his closed eyelids.

“Nobody’s ever held me this way, either,” Ron sighed quietly.

“Why don’t you want to know which one it was?” Severus asked.

“Because it’s only fun if you freely give the information, Severus, and I could tell you were uncomfortable. It’s fine.”

“It was Black,” Severus groaned with the admission. “He was… always… fucking gorgeous… high cheekbones, silky black hair…”

“And yet he tormented you throughout your school years…”

“I know,” Severus scoffed. “Pathetic, right, going back like a kicked dog for more? He tried to kill me.”

 

Ron kissed him gently. “Attraction is a fucked up game, Severus.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“I think we’ve both had enough to drink,” Ron laughed lightly. “Did you ever tell him?”

“Fuck no,” Severus spat, his eyes wrenching open. “He was too busy being wrapped around his little werewolf mutt once he figured out he was queer anyway. And like I would have had a chance in hell… I don’t think I even really wanted it, either.”

“Sirius and Remus?” Ron asked, a faint note of surprise in his tone.  
“Are you fucking blind?” Severus asked in disbelief. “Bent as fucking roundabouts, the both of them. They were all over one another; even as fucking adults… how did you miss it? All over each other until the day Black died… why I never stayed longer in Grimmauld than was necessary…”

“I guess I wasn’t looking for quite how many of my best friend’s father’s friends were sleeping together,” Ron muttered and fell quiet.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap or swear so much,” Severus immediately apologised, reaching a hand up to rub at his sore eyes. “Black has always been able to work me into a blind rage merely by mention alone, as you well know. What’s the time?”

“Half past nine,” Ron looked at the clock. “I’m tired, Sev.”

“Me too…bed?”  
“Aren’t we supposed to stay up, toast one another, toast the cat, toast life, let the old year out of the back door and the new one in the front and such?”

“Don’t know about you but I have always hated New Year’s Eve,” Severus commented. “I must confess this is the first one I have spent in company since around 1982, when I was stupid enough to accept an invitation to one of Albus’ parties.”

 

“I’m normally alone,” Ron sighed in his ear. “And off my tits... Generally this is the one night of the year I come closer to offing myself than any other, truth be told.”

“Oh, Ron…” Severus swallowed uncomfortably. “I am glad I made you stay, then.”

Severus thought he heard something then, but he wasn’t quite sure. It might have been Ron whispering ‘so am I’.

 

_But that’s just wishful fucking thinking, the kid’s doomed, he’ll kill himself eventually._

The malicious thought grabbed Severus around the neck and he couldn’t quite believe his mind was cruel enough to produce it. He knew he should go to bed before his mouth followed suit. He had never been a particularly pleasant drunkard.

 

_Just like my father, I wonder how many of these it would take before I was knocking him around just like Dad did to Mum…_

“Okay, I have to go to bed,” Severus announced, and threw himself forward out of Ron’s arms and rolled to try and stand up.

“Are you alright, Severus?” Ron asked, his concern smattered all over his face.

“No,” Severus shook his head. “Need bed and a sleeping draught before I get depressed and spiteful.”

 

Ron’s look of worry deepened then and he forced himself onto his feet next to Severus.

“Which one of us is swaying?” he whispered loudly.

“Erm. Dunno? Maybe neither of us is swaying, and the room is, and sobriety is all just a big joke,” Severus looked at him and nodded.

“Oh, gods, you’re really pissed,” Ron’s mouth stayed open in a kind of awe.

“Yeah,” Severus shrugged. “S’not the first time.”

 

“I kinda guessed,” Ron reached out for him. “Come on, then, let’s get you to bed, and a sleeping draught and some hangover cure.”

 

Severus stood and waited whilst the man he had kept in his house to watch over turned the tables by helping him, by sorting out the fire guard, turning off the electrical items and taking their glasses, the bottle and the leftover chocolate into the kitchen out of reach of the cat.

 

_I’m a selfish fucking bastard, ruining his pity party with my own. Fuck._

 

There was a crash from the kitchen and it sounded like the loudest thing Severus had ever heard, and there was a pained groan.

  
“Fuck, Sev, sorry, knocked into the draining board,” Ron called drunkenly. “Didn’t break anyfing though.”

“Any _thing_ , cretin,” Severus corrected his pronunciation facetiously.

“Oh, knob off,” Ron laughed, walking back into the living room and making for the stairs. “Can you walk or am I going to have to hoist you over my shoulder?”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Severus snorted. “I am perfectly capable of walking up the stairs.”

 

He smashed into the end of the sofa and felt the pain crash through his thighs. “Fuck it.”

 

“I love you drunk,” Ron snorted, reaching out for his hand and tugging him to safety with a clear path to the stairs. “Sure you don’t want that lift?”

“I think you’re so drunk you’d crack my head open on the stairs,” Severus rolled his eyes and nearly tripped over the bottom step.

“Think you’re going to manage that all on your own, personally,” Ron shrugged and jogged up the stairs faster than Severus had expected.

 

“Slow down, you maniac,” he muttered, grabbing hold of the banister and heaving himself up on it.

 

Severus was hard pushed to remember the last time he had been so utterly smashed. Even when he drank alone he could always make his way up the stairs. His head was swimming. Counting it as a personal victory when he made it to the tiny landing which housed only two doors, one to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom, he followed the light and saw Ron looking confusedly into the medicine cabinet above the sink.

 

“What am I lookin’ for, dude?”

“Did you just call me dude?” Severus raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I can’t keep up my… my… whaddya call it? Words?”

“Your vocabulary?”

“Yeah! That’s it. Can’t be doin’ with that when I’m this pissed. Fuck.”

 

Severus reached past him and pulled out the usual potions. “Come on legless, bed.”

“Rich, comin’ from you,” Ron slurred, and Severus hid his drunken smile at the way the redhead was dropping consonants left and right.

 

Somehow they made it into the bedroom unscathed. Neatness forgotten, clothes were strewn over the floor and Severus found himself grabbed by hot hands into a searing kiss, the alcoholic tendrils of Ron’s breath curling over his face. He ignored it, knowing his own could hardly have smelt any better, and he reached up to sink his hands into the fiery hair.

 

Ron was groaning against his lips whilst their tongues met in ungraceful union in Severus’ mouth. Feeling something burning in his chest not entirely related to the alcohol, Severus tightened his fingers around the thick silk and tugged Ron’s head backwards with his grip. He loomed over him, then, keeping them joined at the mouth but changing the pace and domination to his own style.

 

He felt the redhead melt in his arms and heard further moaning while between their naked bodies their anatomies reacted to the kiss. Severus kept up his oral occupation until he felt Ron shivering in his arms, and when he looked up at the man’s eyes he found them clouded in something he couldn’t recognise.

 

“What?” he whispered, taking the break in the kiss to press his lips all over the blushing face.

“I…” Ron hesitated through his words. “What do you want tonight, Severus?”

 

Severus hadn’t expected that question, from the way Ron had looked so fogged and lustful. They both swayed and he remembered that they were both standing up, so he guided Ron’s frame backward and laid him down on the bed, crawling up on top of him so that he could look down into his face.

 

“You don’t have to ask me that any more,” Severus said gently. “You don’t have to consider what I want first. What do _you_ want?”

 

_Thank God I’m drunk for this conversation…_

Ron looked up at him with wide, suddenly frightened eyes, but then they closed and re-opened slowly. The words were a whisper when they came, but Severus caught them anyway.

 

“I wanna fuck like… like lovers fuck,” the words were wrapped up shame, it was obvious. “I just want… I want… to feel that…”

 

Severus spared him the embarrassment by kissing him every bit as passionately as they had when they’d been standing up. Ron’s eyes slid gratefully shut and Severus’ followed suit when fingers massaged into his hair and worked at his scalp.

 

Flexing out his body on top of Ron’s, Severus realised how perfectly matched their forms were, in the way that they could kiss without awkwardness, the way their nipples matched which meant that when Severus’ chest hurt from the pressure of resting on Ron’s, he instantly knew that his pain would be mirrored and he could adjust without prompt. Their cocks aligned almost perfectly, rubbing in all the right places and their balls pressed together beneath them. Tracing his foot over the top of Ron’s, Severus lost himself in the symmetry and the way that when pleasure came for him it also manifested in the body below him.

 

Ron was the one that broke the kiss, gasping slightly and sucking in air like he had hiccups.

 

“Ron?” Severus frowned at him.

“I’m f-fine,” he jumped. “Just… ergh, out of breath and the alcohol…”

 

Severus reached between them to massage at his chest tenderly. Ron closed his eyes and focussed on finding a deep breathing rhythm.

 

“You look so…”

“What?” Ron opened his eyes, lips curving up into a smile.

“I’m drunk, so I can say this without embarrassment,” Severus swallowed. “Fucking beautiful.”

 

Ron’s only answer was another kiss, and his arms wrapping tightly around the span of Severus’ back, legs coming up to wrap around his hips. They both moaned as their erections crushed snugly together and before long they were rutting for more friction, the air rent with their gasps as they pushed and thrust.

 

“Make love to me,” Ron whispered, kissing his way up Severus’ throat.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before,” Severus confessed, eyes closing to the sensation of one of Ron’s feet smoothing over his arse, parting his buttocks as the soft hot skin passed.

“Well then there’s a first time for everything.”

 

Kissing again, Severus couldn’t protest at all, nor did he find himself wanting to. The depressive mist which had threatened to overpower him in the living room retreated as it was replaced by longing and need, and his fingers tingled with the power that Ron was handing over to him. Breaking out of the hold, Severus extended the redhead’s arms up above his head, and then ran his fingers lightly down the outstretched limbs, taking extra care to graze over the palm of his hands, the delicate skin of his wrists, the sweaty crooks of his elbows, through his pit hair and down over his ribs to settle on his hips.

 

“Oh, gods, it feels so nice when you touch me, Severus,” Ron breathed, lifting his head to kiss him wetly. Severus did not lean down and when Ron had to give up for the strain in his neck, he merely smiled down at him.

 

When he did lower his head, Severus bypassed the swollen lips and instead planted a trail of heated kisses along prominent collarbones, taking care to keep his hands busy caressing where they lay. He kissed harder and wetter at the hollow of Ron’s throat and licked gently, before kissing all the way up his windpipe, over his chin and finally bestowed on the lips the kiss they had been waiting for. Ron was moaning; a low, deep noise constructed of nothing but desire.

 

Even though they had had sex countless times over the past month, Severus found himself almost blown to pieces by the feeling of being desired, the feeling that another human being _wanted_ his kisses and affection.

 

_Shame it took someone so utterly broken and hurt to desire you, though…_

 

He swallowed the cynical thought away and let his kisses trail over Ron’s face, on his cheeks, down his long nose, over his forehead and delicately on his closed lilac eyelids.

 

“Mmmm,” Ron’s lips blossomed into a smile. “You’re better at all this than you think, Severus…”

“Well, probably because over the past month I have had a rather sensuous mentor,” Severus threw back to him, and kissed the lips again before sliding a hand down in between them and clumsily clasping their cocks in his hand.

“I might come just from that,” Ron muttered, letting his head tilt back on the mattress with a growling stretch. “My problem seems to have fucked off.”

 

Severus groaned for the first time and delighted in the way the alcohol in his system heightened every sensation through his erection. His hand felt heavenly and the heat of Ron’s cock against his, divine.

 

Gathering all his courage, Severus leaned down and whispered into Ron’s ear so that his words carried the intimacy that he desired to convey. “How do you want me to take you?”

He heard a heavy swallow, some ragged breaths, and then the answering whisper, “Like this, face to face, my body around you…”

 

Thrilled with the answer, Severus kissed the ear he had questioned and groped for his wand, which he was sure that he’d thrown on the bed.

 

“Noooo,” Ron slurred, grabbed Severus’ wrist, dragged it up to his mouth, and gave it a wet kiss before he spoke again. “No magic, no wands, stretch me yourself…”

“Can’t I even summon the bloody lube?” Severus asked breathlessly.

“No,” Ron chortled.

  
Groaning, Severus rolled off and yanked open the drawer of the bedside cabinet, rummaging around hoping his fingers would close over the tub without him having to raise himself off the bed to look.

 

“Fucking thing spends half its life jumpin’ out of this drawer when I want anythin’ else but not now,” he slurred, his speech ability taking a dive for the worse in his struggle. “Now it’s fuckin’ –aha!”

 

Triumphantly he grabbed it and rolled back over, only to see that Ron had turned onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, and had no doubt been watching Severus’ unguarded naked form whilst he searched.

 

“Don’t start watching me,” Severus begged. “You know I hate that.”  
“I didn’t, actually,” Ron sighed, but respectfully closed his eyes.

“On your back, legs up to your chest,” Severus muttered, keeping his hands off Ron until he had complied.

 

He looked at the spread out view and almost dribbled.

 

_How the fuck have I ever managed to deny for so long that **this** is what I wanted, that this is the sight I’d rather have in my bed as opposed to tits and…_

 

Purposefully cutting off the train of thought, he slicked up his fingers and gently teased along the perineum, letting his fingers caress the soft hairs there. Ron was moaning, biting hard on his lip.

 

“Severus, I can’t… don’t tease…” he breathed. “This has to be…”

“I know,” Severus answered, chastened, and pressed his finger to the hole and pushed inward.

 

_And the poor fucking bastard has been shagged so many times that it’s so easy to do this…_

His finger slid in all the way with barely any protestation from the muscles. Turning it so that the pad and his wrist faced upwards, Severus pulled his arm back with determined slowness, not to tease but to caress the inner walls of the redhead. He added a second finger when he was in danger of popping out; again, it was taken easily with no sign of acknowledgement other than Ron’s voice.

 

“So good, rub again, please…”

 

Severus complied until he had three fingers inside and Ron begging for more, his hips writhing trying to gain more satisfaction.

 

“I’m done, Severus, I think I’m finally going to get… ahhh shit…” he gasped as Severus withdrew his fingers.

 

Smoothing his own cock with wetness, Severus moved with haste simply trying to give Ron what he wanted, and slid in easily without announcing his intention –he knew there was little point or even need, considering that it wouldn’t likely hurt.

 

As such Ron’s foremost reaction was to moan and tense up around Severus’ shaft, and wrap his limbs around his body again. Lying flat out on the bed Severus could barely get any leverage, and the lack of height beneath Ron’s hips made it even harder, but it didn’t make the heat between them any less intense, or the dampen the fire in their eyes.

 

Ron reached up and pulled him into a kiss which he sloppily dominated, sucking the taste of whiskey from Severus’ tongue, before he pulled back and caught the thin lower lip between his teeth and razed it, but soothed the pain away with his own fuller mouth and saliva.

 

Shivers broke off in all directions through Severus’ body as it happened and he gasped, the cold air tickling the back of his throat. Ron released him and he swallowed, before diving with the intention of repeating the action in reverse. Pleased that Ron let him, Severus batted his tongue against the abused lip before he released it, drinking in the way Ron’s breath had become harsh from that action alone.

 

He seemed to arrive at the realisation that his hips weren’t even moving at the same time as Ron did, and the grip about his waist tightened, urging him on. Severus shifted his body experimentally, trying to find the best pace for their lovemaking, as Ron had called it.

 

“Severus!” the moan was breathy and mingled perfectly with his own uttered “Ron…”

 

_Found it._

 

Severus kissed him then, holding him tightly in his arms, keeping the steady pace with his hips and their bodies tight together to give Ron the stimulus trapped in between them.

 

“God,” Ron whispered. “Fucking… yes… ah… gonna come… so hard for you…”

Severus put his lips to his ear and licked the shell softly. “Come for me, with my name on your lips…”

 

_Where the fuck did that come from? Ohhh… shit._

 

However ridiculous Severus felt saying those words, they had worked, and Ron’s pelvis was canting against him, legs gripping forcefully, his lips muttering indecipherable praise. Rising up so he look down into his face, Severus wasn’t exactly for prepared for what unleashed in his chest as he did so, or the thoughts which assaulted his mind.

 

It felt like hot lava was oozing outward from his heart, encapsulating everything else within his chest; muscles, organs and bones alike swamped with thickness and heat. It took his breath away to the point where he struggled to inhale oxygen at all, and he choked, moaning with abandon.

 

_Fucking pathetic, the first person you feel this with is nothing better than a whore…_

Disgusted with himself, Severus turned his vitriol into a passionate kiss, thrusting his tongue deep into Ron’s mouth so hard that he connected with his back teeth.

 

_And you are nothing to take such comfort from him when you could do him so much better._

He was moaning, still, but more at himself.

 

“Severus?” Ron asked of him, sensing that something between them had changed.

“C-come,” Severus ground out, his eyes rammed tightly together. “Come for me, Ron.”

 

He wrangled Ron’s arms so that he could lace their fingers together and then pinned the redhead’s hands level with his head on the mattress.

 

Ron seemingly gave up the will to hold off, because his body tensed, lifted off the bed slightly, and then he released with almost a wail, which Severus drank down as he demanded another kiss, holding the lithe body flat to the bed through it’s climax furthering the wail into a rough scream of pleasure that blossomed into his name at the very end.

 

Unable to resist such a raw, emotional sound, Severus jerked, broke off Ron’s lips and grunted out through his orgasm which left him in long hard spurts, the coiled spring in his belly releasing until he was spent and thoroughly wrung out.

 

He didn’t even realise that it was Ron’s name that he was grunting, getting breathier and rasher every time he spoke. His first clue came from the fact that Ron was staring up at him with shocked eyes, and so differently from their time in the brothel, the redhead let his surprise remain for Severus to see instead of blinking it away to be replaced with another emotion. And slowly, as Severus trailed off, the surprise turned to deepest pleasure, and Ron’s cheeks blushed hard. He then seemed to lose his nerve and reached up to pull Severus down, so that they might not have to look at each other during such intimacy.

 

Head swimming from his orgasm and his drunken blood, Severus slumped where he lay, clinging tightly to Ron’s body without stopping to think if he was hurting him.

 

“Severus, are you alright?” Ron tried again, his voice quiet.

“Not sure,” Severus mumbled, blinking fast against the burn in his eyes.

 

_What am I doing? What kind of monster am I that I would lie here with him like this when…_

“Talk to me,” Ron pleaded. “What’s wrong? Was it not what you… was it not good for you?”

 

_It was too fucking good, too fucking good to be enjoyed between the likes of us._

“It’s fine,” Severus breathed.

“It’s fucking not,” Ron answered derisively.

“I can’t…” Severus closed his eyes and tried to will everything away, hoping the cruel thoughts in his head would the first to go.

 

“Okay,” Ron murmured, and shifted his arms so they protectively encircled Severus’ shoulders, his hands pressing softly into his skin. “Just go to sleep, Sev.”

 

Hangover and sleeping draughts forgotten, Severus let out a tiny gust of air and did just that.

 

***

The room was light when Severus rolled over and woke himself up. His head was miraculously clear when he considerd how he’d gone to bed. He was surprised to find himself buried beneath the duvet, his body clean, naked and warm. Focussing his eyes, he saw an empty potion vial on the side and realised that Ron must have medicated him after he had fallen asleep with the hangover solution, and his heart lurched in gratitude to the redhead.

 

_A redhead who is not in my bed…_

 

Severus groped his hand sideways and found the sheets cool, so Ron had been gone from the room for a long time. He lay very still, trying to discern any sound from the bathroom or the lower level of the house.

 

Worry began to blossom in his mind, assuming that seeing him at his worst, inebriated and faltering during sex, had chased Ron away.

 

_Well, that’s no surprise; you’ve been waiting for him to run…_

 

Severus felt drained of energy and instead of following his instincts and getting up to look for Ron, he sank back into the mattress, savouring the feel of the cotton beneath his bare back and the duvet pressing lightly on his belly and morning arousal.

 

_What on earth was the matter with you, Severus? The kid asks to be made love to, to fuck like lovers fuck, to feel like they feel… and you choose that time to start questioning whether you should be doing it or not. For fuck’s sake. Isn’t the time for that past?_

Severus realised with an uncomfortable clenching of his gut that since he’d removed Ron from his job at the brothel, he _hadn’t_ actually considered their actions together, whether it was right or healthy for him to keep on seeing the redhead.

 

_Of course it’s healthy. He’d be whoring himself to god-knows-who already if it weren’t for me, he said as much._

Swallowing hard, Severus reached up and blearily scrubbed at his eyes, groaning slightly. He wanted Ron to come back to the bed and cuddle into his side in the infuriatingly sweet way he had a habit of doing.

 

He gazed up at the bedroom ceiling for a few minutes, and then he jumped when he heard footsteps on the stairs, his heart leaping with joy that Ron hadn’t left after all.

 

_Maudlin arsehole. After your actions and thoughts last night you deserve loneliness._

“You’re awake,” Ron smiled as he walked through the door. “About time, it’s nearly afternoon. I was coming to wake you up with this…” He glanced down at the tray he was holding.

“Please, _please_ tell me that mug contains extremely sweet tea?” Severus begged, nearly drooling at the thought.

“Sure does,” Ron set the tray to hover a few feet off the bed.

“How did you fare last night?” Severus asked him, sitting up in the bed and reaching for the promised beverage, noticing the toast also on the tray and helping himself to a slice, polishing it off in three bites before he drank.  
“Alright, we shared the potion between us.”

“I must apologise for my behaviour, I don’t believe anyone has ever quite seen me so drunk.”

 

Ron gave him a tiny smile and looked away, sitting down and propping his arm out behind him. “Last night, towards the end of it… you went a bit…”

“I am a horrible drunk,” Severus said quietly. “And my intention of coming up to bed and knocking myself out was to protect you from that. I’m sorry…”

 

Severus nearly spilled his tea as Ron suddenly lurched closer, positioning their faces mere centimetres apart. Sapphire eyes hooked into his soul and assessed his face.

 

“If there was something wrong, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you? If you… if it was something about me? …Us?”

 

_Oh, Godric’s balls. He thinks there’s an ‘us’._

_And so do I. Fuck._

Severus swallowed the mouthful he had taken and lowered the mug to safety before he replied. “It was just the drink, Ron,” he raised a hand and lightly touched his soft cheek. “I promise.”

 

Ron didn’t look convinced, there was doubt in his bright eyes and Severus hated that he had been the one to place it there.

 

“Before you went weird,” Ron looked him dead in the eyes before turning slightly to the side and kissing the hand resting on his face. “That was the best sex of my life, Severus.”

 

_Oh, shit._

Severus couldn’t answer, though he knew he had gone pale.

 

“Don’t look so scared,” Ron implored him. “It’s a good thing, really.”

“I…”

“Have I made the great Potions Master speechless?” Ron teased gently, obviously trying to diffuse the tension now he knew that it had made Severus uncomfortable.

“You seem to have many different ways to do that,” Severus swallowed another mouthful.

“Talented,” Ron said quietly, the beginnings of an impish smile on his lips.

 

There was no doubt as Severus looked at Ron, observing the way a faint blush lingered on his face and the way that his eyelashes dipped with very real shyness, that their mating the night before had sparked something new between their souls.

 

And faced with such raw beauty, Severus found himself terrified, once again the protector of somebody else’s survival, their fate. He set down his tea on the side table and pulled Ron into a kiss, and heard the redhead’s relieved little sigh, as though he had thought his admission would see him thrown out of the door.

 

Clutching him tightly, Severus would never divulge he was only doing so to stop his hands from shaking. Or that he’d hidden his face from view to secrete the torment currently contorting it. His chest was tight, and whether he would ever manage to pull away from the embrace seemed uncertain, because at that precise moment the thought of letting go only for the conversation to begin again petrified him far too much.


	6. Chapter 6

_Severus moved into the room, his feet moving slower than he thought humanly possible. Before him on the bed lay a slumped figure. The sheets around it were drenched in crimson. He blinked, wondering why everything was in greyscale, apart from the blood, and messy mop of red hair spilled over a pillow._

_His breath caught in his throat, his heart hammered in his chest, but still his feet would move no faster._

_The huddled form on the bed whimpered a ragged sound of regret from a weak throat._

_Instinctively reaching for his wand, Severus’ hand groped around empty space inside his robes, and with the horrifying realisation that the salvation was missing, his feet unglued from the floor and he flew to the bed, his thighs bumping into the edge of the mattress._

_“No,” his words were a defiant murmur as he reached forward and grabbed the man on the bed, one knee rising to rest on the edge; blood surged up out of the padding with the pressure._

_He lifted the body in his hands, red liquid instantly staining his fingers and the man whimpered again. His head flopped back and Ron’s features, though coloured in grey, were deadly pale, his eyes half open and fluttering, lips moving in a continual soundless murmur._

_“Ron,” he spoke the man’s name for the first time and his chest was consumed with ice as his eyes took in the slashes at pivotal points on the thin body. “Oh, God.”_

_He heard his voice as a begging whine, even though he knew there was little point. He had no wand, there was too much blood lost, and the facial movement grew less with every passing second._

_“Don’t, I thought it was better, I thought we made it better?” Severus committed his body to the bed and cradled Ron in his arms, stroking his hair._

_A slight shudder passed through the redhead, a tiny, almost inaudible gasp emitting from his parted lips, and then-_

“AAAAAAAAAAARGHFUCKINGMERLINNOOOOOO!”

 

Severus blinked in shock at the dark bedroom, his breath juddering hard in his chest, throat stinging from his roaring scream of terror. He gulped at the cold air, refusing to shut his eyes, knowing that when he did the bloody nightmare would be imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. He became aware of the sweat beading all over his body when his skin began to tingle from the chilly temperature of the room, and something wet dripped of the end of his chin and plopped bluntly onto his thigh.

 

Jumping, he flew back to his senses. Realising he had pushed the duvet off when he’d flown upright, he looked down at his naked body with shock as though he had never seen it before. Reaching a shaking hand upward to brush at his face he was staggered to find it dripping with tears.

 

_Fucking hell. When was the last time you cried?_

 

Tears were something Severus had forced himself to put aside when his Patronus had changed. After the initial bout of agonized weeping and wailing, he had made a stern promise to himself that he would never be moved to tears again. And sitting in his bedroom with his eyes still leaking, he realised he had shattered his promise with barely any conscious effort from himself at all.

 

He looked at the clock and saw it was just past three in the morning. It was then that he felt eyes upon him and looked sideways to see Artemis curled up on Ron’s pillow, staring with inquisitive eyes searching for what was wrong with her usually stalwart owner.

 

 _And, it is **not**_ _Ron’s pillow._

“Ron.” The name was a dark mutter and the room swallowed it, but the resonance in Severus’ mind was far deeper. With a gasp of fear he flung his arm out for his wand on the bedside table and forced himself to focus enough to bring up his Patronus. He ignored Artemis’ welcoming meow to the creature and programmed it with a short, shaking message to Ron, asking if he was alright and could he answer as soon as possible. “Don’t leave until you get him up and answering,” Severus instructed the shimmering cat, and lowered his wand. It faded away and he sucked in another breath.

 

He dropped the stick of wood onto the mattress and buried his face in his hands, drying the tears with a rough scrub of skin-on-skin. He found, however, that he felt hardly any better with them gone. Collapsing back on the mattress only dislodged the tense brick which resembled his stomach and a wave of nausea battered against him. Severus clamped a hand over his mouth, fighting back the rolling motions and breathed deeply through his nose, squeezing his eyes tight together.

 

However with telltale bitterness in his throat it became clear that it wasn’t going to work and he was forced to throw himself out of the bed and dodge around the difficult corners of his house to choke up in the toilet.

 

_Tears and vomit… Christ alive, clearly a night for fucking long-time firsts._

Coughing a few more times, Severus straightened, resting one hand on the bathroom wall for support. The air of the bathroom was damper and colder, freshening the vile taste in his mouth. When he felt stronger he reached for the bottle of mouthwash on the sink and knocked a sizable amount back, swilling it around his teeth and the top of his throat with vigour, spitting hard down the plughole.

 

With the taste successfully abated a shiver passed through him and he moved back into the bedroom, where the cat gave him another worried look. Sliding back into the bed and drawing the duvet back up over his body, Severus’ head hit the pillow and turned to look at her on the adjacent one.

 

“I don’t know,” he said bluntly, causing her to blink once and then settle her head down again, instantly making for the land of nod.

 

 _Thank you so much for your extended consideration…_ The bitter thought swirled in his mind as he exhaled. Severus lay in the darkness for a few minutes before anxiety assaulted him, clenching his stomach once more with the realisation that Ron had not yet answered his Patronus.

 

_If he’s asleep, she might not be able to wake him up. And then what? Stuck here till morning heaving your guts up out of fear?_

Groaning, his eyes slid shut but they flew open again when his suspicions were proved correct, and all he saw was blood surrounding a deathly pale Ron and he suffered the desperation all over again.

 

However, Severus found he was able to fight the nausea when it came and kept it at bay through controlled breathing. What he could not manage, though, was the torrent of thoughts pounding around his mind, each as confusing as the next.

 

_Why the fuck am I dreaming about his suicide in such vivid colour?_

_Because you’re terrified of the reality of such a situation._

Answering his own question, Severus focussed up at the bedroom ceiling.

 

_Why now, why tonight, unless it was prophetic? In which case, I am too late, and he’s gone._

_Even you cannot control what your mind dreams without the aid of a potion, Severus._

Another question answered and his eyes flicked to the window, which offered no solace with its drawn curtains.

 

_If he is dead, then that’s it… he’s gone… his warmth and kisses and that damnable backside… gone._

_And why do you care so much?_

Hissing slightly, Severus realised his own mind was going to offer him no comfort at all now it had started questioning his questions.

 

_A sleeping draught would put an end to this idiocy._

_You don’t want to sleep. You want to wait for his Patronus and make sure he’s alive._

There was no arguing with that assessment. Without knowing where Ron lived, it was all he could do. And the redhead still hadn’t told him, mainly because, and Severus wanted to punish himself for his own stupidity as he realised the fact, he had never actually asked.

 

_Which is utterly bizarre considering the fact that your impossible draw to the boy has been growing ridiculously quickly ever since you lost him his job._

_He’s not a boy, he’s a man. Experience has given him the intelligence he lacked as a boy, and even then he had his loyalty. You need not dismiss him because of your past perceptions._

Severus looked at the clock and realised fifteen minutes had passed since he had sent his Patronus and his stomach tightened further.

 

_Your worry is futile. If he is already dead, or has already cut, then what can you do? His soul has already slipped away like smoke in the wind and his body will be found when the rent is unpaid._

His mind did not deflect the assessment that time and his fists clenched tightly in what he realised was fear.

 

_What am I afraid of? This is nothing, it’s not a relationship, and it never can be that if he’s still alive. So why, why am I torturing myself like this?_

Again no answer came and he was forced to consider the possibilities by himself.

 

_Say he’s alive. Say he comes to me the next time. And again, and again. He is young and his heart nubile. Last time I saw the start of our connection deepening. It will go further. Add to that he is hurt. Feelings will turn into what he believes is love. And then…_

Severus nervously swallowed as he breathed through his contemplation.

 

_And then I am faced with my own decision. If I cannot return those feelings everything will break again. We are trapping ourselves into incontrovertible hell by continuing this. I will find myself unable to love him but unwilling to release him, and he unable to fall out of love with me as his liberator…_

Growling at his revelation, he flung a hand up and rubbed viciously at his eyes and moved it downward to smooth over his mouth, tugging at the dry skin of his lips as he did so. His mind batted about the desolate thoughts before they were roughly shoved aside by images he seldom allowed himself to consider.

 

_Christmases, birthdays, anniversaries… a family… possibly closer within your reach than it has ever been, Severus…_

 

The thought dangled, a great temptation on a puppet string before him, simply waiting for him to reach out and grab it to peruse the desires it contained.

 

The image of a happier, healthier Ron chased away the bloodied deceased version from his closed eyelids, and it became a mawkish description of everything his mind assumed would be on offer. The fuller body wrapped around his own and held him tightly, the face pressed into his neck so vividly that Severus could almost feel the lips caressing his skin. They were in a house, his house, but clearly their joint home, and the warmth and happiness was almost stifling. The image mutated into them breathing raggedly against one another in bed, sweat on their skin, looks of pure sated pleasure on their open faces. It changed again, randomly blossoming into the two of them walking through a wooded area, the silence between them peaceful and poignant.

 

A snore from Artemis broke him out of the fantasy and he started, his head falling to the side to look at the clock. More minutes had passed and his innards felt iron-welded into their current state of tension.

 

_And the possibility of all that depends on one thing, Severus. You embracing your sexuality._

Scowling, Severus thumped his fist into the mattress, hating that his mind had managed to shatter the beautiful vision he had found solace in.

 

_If you want the vision back, come out. Stop hiding. Nothing between you will work if you choose not to._

 

He essentially knew that was the truth. If he continued to act behind his masquerade of heterosexuality, he would find himself further trapped, unwilling to leave the house with his partner for anything which resembled a date, nor would anybody be able to visit his house.

 

_Only Draco ever visits and after New Year’s Eve, he already knows._

Mildly comforted by that thought, Severus chewed on the inside of his cheek in reflection.

 

_Seriously, who on earth is going to care?_

 

The words were frank.

 

_Nobody gives a damn about me, so why on earth should they care whether I’m gay, straight or buggering nothing but my mattress?_

Severus had always wondered if his lack of definition had been his problem. His mind was scientific and he had often shied away from anything he could not explain with a formula or logical fact. He had presumed that was why his mind was so unreceptive to the paranormal, because despite all of their great intelligence, the wizarding world had never come up with a sturdy enough description for him to be able to swallow the existence of ghosts. Even though they had been before his eyes for years in the form of the Hogwarts house spirits, his mind seemed happy to blank them.

 

_So then, what am I? Where do I fit in the great cosmic joke of defined sexuality? I doubt there is a category for desperate. Or desolate. Or ‘unable to express his sexual needs’. Or-_

His mental self-flagellation was abruptly cut off by a cold brush against his face and his eyes flew open. The shimmering Jack Russell terrier had just licked his face to gain attention, and Severus’ heart burst into overdrive, thudding hard with relief.

 

The dog spoke with a sleepy tone:

 

_“Yes, Severus, I’m alive, you twat. I’m also awake. Thanks to you. I had just fallen asleep. Would you like me to come over, you sounded cut up?”_

 

Severus was so relieved he couldn’t even feel guilty for disrupting the redhead’s much needed slumber. He picked up his wand and called up his cat and imparted the message.

 

“No. I’m sorry for waking you up. I’m glad you are okay. Goodnight.”

 

His cat faded and he exhaled with relief, feeling all the muscles through his body relax to the point where he seemed almost boneless.

 

“Thank fucking Merlin for that,” he whispered the words aloud and followed them up with a bitter little laugh at his own expense.

 

His body was too sparked by the activity, he realised, for returning to sleep to be an option. Looking up at the ceiling again he realised he could make good use of the time to brew if he could marshal the anxiety out of his body and keep his thoughts under control. It never helped to have a wandering mind sitting over a bubbling cauldron, in his younger years he had kissed goodbye to his eyebrows far too many times to have not learned his lesson over _that_ particular notion of carelessness.

 

_Yes, and when you were younger you also would have been fondling yourself five minutes ago as a way to release the stress…_

Severus thought about it, his hand suddenly tingling in anticipation, and his index finger twitched as though eager to comply with his needs.

 

_I even feel the need to control this need, the art of self-pleasure… Christ, what on earth happened to me?_

Defiantly he grabbed hold of his flaccid penis and took a deep breath, forcing his mind into sexier realms in order to get the blood flow south. Easily his mind flooded with images of the sensual redheaded male who had graced his bed over the past week and he groaned thinking about the way Ron looked when he came. Beginning to stroke, Severus licked his lips and spread his legs.

 

As usual, though, he found that his mind could not be content with the memories of events past and reached forth into his fantasies, dragging out a dark room lit only by flickering candles. His imagination burst forth into action, placing him in a high backed chair, tethered to the wood at his wrists, ankles and neck, completely naked.

 

Feeling the usual blush grace his cheeks, Severus resolutely ignored it and masterfully stroked his now fully grown erection, tightening his grip and making himself hiss in pleasure.

 

Severus had never detailed the scene playing out in his mind, one of submission and promised humiliation, to anybody. He had purposefully held it back from Ron and cherished the fact that they remained his own fantasies, his own indulgence. He was fairly sure he would never be able to cope if they became reality.

 

 _“I asked you not to disobey me,”_ the imagining voice was thick and low, he thought he might recognise it. _“And yet the table over there is anointed with your seed.”_

_“Master, I apologise, I-“_

_“Speak when spoken to,”_ the voice was a growl and Severus whimpered in response to it, setting his other hand to cup at his bollocks as he pumped away at his cock.

 

The submissive version of himself in his head fell dutifully silent as the figure tormenting him sank gracefully to his knees, and then looked up into his face. Severus wasn’t shocked to see that for the first time in his life, the figure finally had a face –a pale, freckle-dusted face topped with styled red hair and was adorned with glittering eyes and full sumptuous lips.

 

“Ron,” his moan sank into the ceiling faster than he could be embarrassed by it.

 

 _“This is for your disobedience,”_ Ron spoke with narrowed eyes, and deftly slipped a cock ring into place. His imagination startlingly vibrant, Severus could almost feel it squeezing his skin in reality. _“And make sure you learn your lesson.”_

Severus arched up in the bed imagining the plump lips stretching wide around his cock and suckling at the end of it, a wet tongue sneaking out periodically to torture his slit. He brushed his thumb over it, hissing at the sting it created and forced himself to endure the painful bliss again and again.

 

 _“I should leave you here,”_ Ron pulled off and scowled up at him, his eyes deadly cold and to Severus’ utter delight, completely serious. _“Leave you here trapped and hard. I’d leave you long enough to beg for release.”_

Fully aware that he was full-on moaning to an empty room by that point, his voice a continual rise and fall of desire, Severus felt his climax approaching and tamed the fantasy to suit his impatient need.

 

_“But I am not that cruel. Are you sorry?”_

_“Yes, master,”_ Severus shivered at the way his own voice was so utterly truthful, the feeling of such complete submission making his words every bit as heartfelt as the redhead’s threats of abandonment had been. _“I am sorry, please, please let me come…”_

Gasping hard, the cold air of the bedroom raping the back of his throat, Severus fisted firmly on his shaft, the usual fire gripping hold of his belly and thighs as it built.

 

 _“Then I will grant you your release, this time…”_ Ron’s fingers vanished the ring with a single tap, and then the fantasy flew far, far away as Severus’ orgasm became very real, ripping up through his cock and jerking out of him, causing his mouth to part and his moan to beat in time to the pulses of come leaving his body.

 

Everything tensed in the few moments it took for him to spend himself over his hand. Then, as though someone had pulled out his internal structure, he sagged backwards into the mattress, his breathing all over the place and his hair stuck once more to the back of his neck with sweat.

 

Coherent thought remained out of his grasp as he panted, images of Ron’s power drifting hazily through his mind. His fingers were still clenched around his cock and Severus couldn’t make himself let go, even though the sensation was far too much after such a powerful finish.

 

_Gods… I…  another first, that person has never had a face before._

 

He swallowed hard and managed to release his hold on his member. Feeling the sticky come between his fingers as his hand slackened to a normal posture had him reaching for his wand to clean up the mess, even though once it was done he did not move from his spread position.

 

_What does that mean? I want him to dominate me and whip the shit out of me on a nightly basis, holding back my orgasms and taking everything for himself?_

Severus realised that he definitely did not want that when a shudder of revulsion rocked through his body and he was grateful for it –the thought of submitting himself to anybody in such a way in reality made him sick. As long as it remained fantasy, however, he felt able to deal with it, even if the redhead was suddenly his new master.

 

_The wank was meant to get rid of your tension, not complicate everything tenfold. Well done, Severus, even when you try for relaxation you manage to whip up a veritable whirlwind of inner turmoil._

“Why the fuck can’t I just be normal?!” Severus growled aloud to the room, his eyes flying open with the anger suddenly coursing through his bloodstream. “Why does _everything_ have to be such a major upheaval?”

 

He threw himself upright, cursing under his breath his complete inability to adapt to a situation.

 

_And it doesn’t fucking help that there is absolutely **nobody** that I can discuss this with, other than him, and he doesn’t deserve to have my monotonous breakdown on his shoulders._

 

It was a moment before Severus realised that he had catapulted himself into the space near the window and was pacing up and down in it, prowling completely naked, with his not-quite-softened cock dangling at his crotch emitting random throbs. Fists clenched tightly, he made himself stop and take some deep breaths.

 

The pacing motion gave him cause to think back to the past, of all the times he spent pacing up and down at Hogwarts, in front of two desks in particular.

 

_Oh, God, no._

 

He growled in exasperation and buried his face in his hands, knowing that once the idea fully struck him, his nature would not allow him to cast it off as a bad one.

 

_Now is probably the time to accept one of the many invitations you’ve left unopened to go and have a chat with Albus’ portrait._

“No,” Severus told himself loudly. “The old fucking meddler will just pry and make everything worse.”

 

_Or, like fucking usual, the old codger will probably have some profound advice for you, which you will take, as you always have, and tomorrow will be better for it._

Even the cat woke up at the spouted vitriol that shouted out of his mouth after that.

 

***

“I must say, Severus, this is certainly a surprise,” Minerva McGonagall waved him into the seat in front of her desk. “It’s been at least four years…”

 

Severus nodded politely at her. “I must confess to having put off his invitation,” he said quietly. “I have, after all, tried to move on with my life.”

“Completely understandable,” she gave him a tight smile which didn’t reach her eyes, and Severus inwardly moaned at the extended pleasantries that old acquaintance commanded.

 

“Where exactly _is_ Albus?” his eyes flicked up to the empty portrait frame and hoped that the old man was at least somewhere in the castle.

 

He had waited as long as he could for the arrival of an hour considered acceptable for social calling, methodically brewing, eating breakfast, scouring the morning’s copy of the Prophet, bathing and finally dressing, all at an infuriatingly slow speed. Then he had immediately contacted Minerva through the fire and entered the old office it felt like he had spent much of his life visiting.

 

It was slightly more feminine than when Albus and he himself had inhabited the space, with touches of family photographs on the desk, differently inscribed personal stationery waiting on the desk to be utilised and the perpetual tin of biscuits that had once sat on her desk when she worked as a mere deputy alongside him.

 

“We’ve had to set up a private room,” her age-withered hand indicated a new door off to the office’s left. “As you can imagine, after the war plenty of people wanted to speak with him in private, without interruption from the other portraits. So we set up an empty frame for him to move between the two. He’s taken to sleeping in there, for some reason. Feel free,” she motioned towards it.

 

All Severus had wanted was for her to stop speaking and give him Albus Dumbledore, but faced with the moment he found himself staring rather warily at the door, wondering just what he was letting himself in for.

 

_A feeling I’ve had hundreds of times before…_

 

He rose to his feet and gave Minerva polite nod and moved to the door. His fingers were burning as he pushed it open, his mind awash with plans trying to decide a way to explain his situation. Albus had always been intuitive, and perhaps the _only_ person other than Severus’ mother that had been able to see through his tough exterior to the mess within.

 

_Well, I suppose Ron should also be added to that list now. He knows because he takes the time and care to look._

 

Shutting the door with a gentle click, he looked up and found a very plain room with a comfortable chair and Albus’ portrait on the wall. Minerva’s estimation had been correct; the wizened figure was slumped in his frame, snoring loudly, his mouth slightly parted.

 

Fighting down the bizarre urge to laugh, Severus cleared his throat hoping it would be enough to wake up the sleeping art.

 

_But no, the old swine never did like to make things easy for me, did he?_

“Albus?” He spoke resignedly. “It’s me, Severus.”

 

Bright blue eyes instantly popped open and the body jumped slightly, and then Severus found himself under the scrutiny of a dead man he had not seen for five years.

 

_Muggles have this right. The dead stay dead. They don’t linger on to interrupt your life continually in a fucking swirl of artistic oil paints._

“Severus, dear God. I had completely given up hope!” Albus’ voice was full of very real surprise.

“Oh, come on Albus,” Severus dropped into the high-backed armchair with a groan borne of his early morning wake-up call. “We both know you’ve just been waiting for me to be man enough to come.

“Some things never change, eh?” Albus twinkled at him, and Severus wasn’t shocked to find his blood already prickling with irritation. “Still beating yourself into the ground, then, dear boy?”

“It would seem so,” he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, supporting his chin with his hand. He crossed one leg over the other for something to do.

 

“I sense your visit is due to a problem you need my advice on?”

“No, I merely thought it was time to gain some closure,” Severus lied, not really sure for whose benefit he was bothering to do so.

“Oh, well, in that case…”

 

Albus led him in a pleasant conversation discussing the past, asking about his life, where he worked, where he lived, how he _was_ , was he married or did he have a partner, how was Draco, was _he_ married or did he have a partner… the inane talk rambled on for half an hour before they came to a halt and simply looked at one another.

 

“Severus, you’d be a fool to assume that because I am talking to you from behind this canvas that I cannot still tell when you are in turmoil over something.”

 

Heaving a sigh, Severus let his elevated foot return to the ground and he kept his eyes on the floor.

 

“Albus,” the word was full of power and determination, but it all sapped away for the next words. “Did you ever have suspicions concerning my sexuality?”

“Many, Severus. And every attempt to broach the subject was skilfully extinguished by your well-constructed shield.”

“Well, consider the shield down,” Severus muttered.

“So, you have decided to come into the open about it?” Albus asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Severus confessed. “I have a… well.”

 

“I sense there is a thrilling tale here, am I right?”

“I’m not so sure about thrilling, Albus, you’ll probably be rather disappointed in me by the end of it.”

“Which tells me that you are disappointed in yourself.”

 

Severus’ hand clenched into a fist and he knocked it into his lips to fight through the nerves. “Since the war I have visited an institution equipped to satisfy the needs I have always denied.”

“Well, haven’t we all, once or twice?” Albus tried to put him at ease.

“And there I found someone, who has long been missing and is actually thought deceased, working. I was shocked, repulsed and I should have left that evening and never returned.”

“But if you hadn’t, you would not be sitting in front of me,” was the astute assessment.

“Yes,” Severus kept his eyes down. “I visited him more often, until at one point I welcomed him into my own home.”

 

“Considering that we were friends for many years and you never invited me into your personal inner sanctum once, Severus, I fully comprehend the gravity of that situation,” Albus’ voice was lightly teasing.

“And since then… well. At Christmas, I arrived for my appointment to find him horribly abused.”

“Was this a Muggle establishment?”

“No, the foolish idiot is bent on self-destruction and refused physical protection in order to punish himself,” Severus hissed. “He wants to die but cannot find it within himself to end it that way. I think he believes, however it happens, he should suffer…”

“Poor man,” Albus sighed. “Not a well soul at all.”

“No,” Severus agreed. “In trying to keep him safe, I managed to lose him his position. And now I have… we have… well. He comes to my house regularly and we are both starting to feel more for each other than we should.”

 

“Who is to say what you should or shouldn’t feel?” Albus questioned. “Is there a reason why this can go no further?”

“I don’t see how it can,” Severus finally looked up at him. “He… his family are prominent, and yet he sees going home as a… well, if he goes home he sees it as giving up on his path of punishment, and is also faced with the reality of his most recent employment hurting them.”

 

“Are you prepared to give me a name?” Albus asked.

“Absolutely not,” Severus shook his head and hardened his eyes.  
“You do not trust me?”

“Albus, no, frankly not.”

“I should have expected no less,” the man laughed, shaking his head slightly. “But what do you want from me, Severus, if you did not come for my help?”

 

Severus faltered completely and hung his head, tucking his chin into his robes. “I just felt…”

“As though you were alone?”

 

He gave a jerk of his head and fell silent.

 

“Why can’t you keep meeting at your home?” Albus pressed on.

“Because we will begin to feel far too much for one another, it has already started… I do not want him to become too attached to me, Albus.”

“No, you mean _you_ do not want to become too attached to _him_ ,” the old man corrected.

“His family really do present a problem. He doesn’t want to go back to them, I am sure of that. But if they got wind of the fact that I was harbouring him… after all these years…”

“Severus, have you considered that maybe you need to take the initial steps of contact for him?”

 

Severus’ dark head snapped up and made eye contact with the portrait again. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t thought about it in the dark night hours, of returning Ron to his family. Deep down, he knew in his heart that was what the redhead needed, familial safety and love. But that meant his own isolation, again.

 

“Must I always be the man that sacrifices his wants and needs?” his voice was morose, he knew.

“What makes you so sure, Severus, that it _would_ be such a sacrifice?”

“He would loathe me. If I make that move, he would never forgive me. It was hard enough when I lost him his job.”

“I think maybe you place too much pessimism on your young lover,” Albus said shortly. “You have always been that way, quick to understand your own interpretations as solid actions.”

“He is passionate enough, Albus, to hold that grudge forever. And I would not blame him –it is a betrayal of trust, the very basic concepts of given confidence!”

“Or, Severus, maybe you should consider that he is passionate enough to forgive you for it?”

 

“Doubtful, he is too torn inside to be hurt further.”

“Much like yourself, Severus,” Albus sighed heavily. “I believe you know the answer here, and so unlike you, you are too afraid to make the leap.”

“I am no coward,” anger roiled suddenly in Severus’ belly. “Have six years behind that canvas made everything that I sacrificed for you fall out of your brilliant mind?”

 

“Alas, Severus –being afraid is not tantamount to cowardice. You are strong and loving, and yet you will not embrace the latter attribute with anybody inhabiting the living realm…”

“Lily is not the obstacle here. Albus, I have moved on. Even my Patronus has changed,” Severus glared up at him. “Five years have passed; you do _not_ know me as you did.”

“Then why are you here?” Albus asked pointedly.

 

Severus paused, trying to muster defiant words. But his shoulders slumped and he let out a groan, replying, “Because you know me.”

“Quite right,” Albus chirped, sounding pleased. “Now. I can tell that your feelings for this man run deeper than you care to admit to me, Severus, and don’t you dare argue that fact.”

 

Severus closed his mouth which had fallen open to do just that.

 

“I believe, though, that this man is reaching out to you for help. If he did not want it, if he did not want your affection, I hardly think he would have returned to you after you cost him his only means of employment.”

“He was being treated like a slab of meat,” Severus protested. “I couldn’t leave him there, Albus!”

“I was not passing judgement, merely stating what I see as the obvious,” Albus said, his hand raised in a placating gesture. “But I think, in light of what you have told me… I think this man is asking for your help, whether he knows it or not. I think that you need to overlook your own fears of losing him and do what you know is right, in returning him to the people who love and miss him.”

 

“But then…” Severus’ voice quietened to a whisper.

“But what about you?” Albus said it for him.

 

Severus nodded, dropping his eyes once more, his chest thick with the miserable prospect of Ron never knocking on his front door again.

 

“Severus, might I speak plainly, with the knowledge that when this offends you your wand and fists will be unable to harm me?”

“Oh, Godric,” Severus buried his face in one hand and waved Albus on with the other.

 

“My boy, it is time to stop acting a neurotic tart and do what is best for the both of you.”

 

Severus choked, coughed and forced his eyes upwards to where Albus was smiling at him. And then, quite madly, it sounded to himself in the small room, he laughed.

 

“If you do not make this step for him,” Albus laid on his best bargaining voice which Severus recognised despite their years apart. “What will happen, hmm? You will cut yourself more deeply inside with every visit, making yourself wonder if you are doing the best by him, until you become so cold to the poor chap he will run away and you will both lose what you enjoy.”

 

“And when I make contact with his family,” Severus pointed out, “We’ll both lose it anyway.”

“You believe that,” Albus sighed. “I do not.”

“Your great obsession with hope still hasn’t been quashed then?” Severus gave a half-hearted sneer. “Not even after the death of your protégée when it seemed all was well and done?”

“And I see your disregard for the boy Harry Potter was hasn’t either,” Albus’ tone hardened. “Really, Severus, you still hold onto all your old grudges, after all this time? No wonder you assume your young lover will do the same. You always would superimpose your feelings into the minds and actions of others.”

 

“I feel less inclined to peruse them these days,” Severus confessed. “But that they still exist I cannot deny.”

“For you, Severus, I am thrilled to say that is a pleasing enough start,” Albus winked.

 

“So I should rat him out to his family, then?” Severus said, after a few moments of silence between them.

“I know you agree with me that it is for the best.”

“He’s young, not even twenty-four yet,” Severus breathed. “He doesn’t know if he’s gay or straight even though men have used his body for years. He sees… well. Look, you don’t need to know any more.”

 

“Twenty-three, you say?” Albus asked.

“Mm,” Severus was suddenly afraid he had given away far too much.

“I will have Minerva keep an eye on the newspaper for me,” Albus said finally, after fixing Severus with the penetrating stare which he absolutely hated, and always had done. “To see if there are any long lost sons homecoming…”

 

“He’ll never forgive me,” Severus got to his feet, hiding his hands so that Albus could not see them shaking.

“Well, Severus, plenty of young men have hated you. And what’s more, you have hated yourself.”

“You’re implying that one more will make no difference?” Severus scoffed, hurt.

“No, from the look in your eyes, Severus, I know it will make a very great deal of difference. I count on it for your survival and possible return to humanity.”

“Unlikely,” Severus shook his head and moved to the door.

“Just because you have relinquished your hold on one kind of love, Severus,” Albus got to his feet in the portrait. “It does not mean you should prevent yourself from embracing another.”

 

Severus flicked him a dark look and reached for the door handle.

 

“Do not leave it so long, next time,” Albus called. “I have missed you, Severus.”

 

_I am not giving you the satisfaction of knowing that I also missed you, seeing as you inadvertently orchestrated my death._

“The fact that you came here at all tells me just how much you missed me, so don’t think your dignified silence resembles the moral high ground, either,” Dumbledore laughed, and then left his frame.

 

_Oh, bollocks._

_***_

Severus hadn’t intended to be walking through the streets that he currently did, he only knew that from the second he had left Albus’ office there had been no other possible place for him to ruminate over his decision.

 

The same compunctions which had driven him to the school that morning were now driving him forth to his second destination, and also forcing him to consider Albus’ words over Ron.

 

It was no surprise, therefore, that his throat was thick with emotion, and he could tell he wouldn’t be able to speak without constriction. He paused as he crossed the centre of the square, his eyes alighting on the statue in the middle. Severus had not been there in years, never allowed himself near after the agony of his first and only visit. He continued on his way, noticing the snow thick on the ground.

 

The cold did not touch him as he walked, the robes he had chosen to wear swishing along the ground, collecting dirt and snow on their hem, but he did not care. He extended a gloved hand and pushed open the gate, weaving his hips around the structure and pushing it gently to behind him. And then he was faced with the graveyard in its snowy entirety, and his breath caught in his chest.

 

Despite the fact that the ground was blanketed in white, he found his way to his destination with ease, his feet carrying him faster than he wanted them to. He almost laughed at the comparison to his dream that morning, where his feet had been unable to help him save Ron from dying until it was too late. Remembering where he was, however, he kept his face solemn and made his way to the location he recalled without trouble.

 

His eyes alighted on three stones, one much newer than the other two. Severus had known it would be waiting for him, but there was little he could have done to prepare himself, he realised, for seeing Harry Potter’s grave for the first time. He forced himself to focus on what was now the centre stone, and he stepped carefully between the graves to wipe the snow off the inscription. Lily’s name smoothed into view and he sighed, seeing that the snow had covered the left marker as well.

 

_Bury the hatchet, Severus. Bury the hatchet. Today, more than ever, you should do this._

 

He took a deep breath, reached over, and cleared the white clinging powder from James Potter’s tombstone. Severus half expected his hand to burn painfully or the flesh to melt away from the bone, but there was nothing, only his own sense of disbelief and the wind rattling around the graveyard.

 

Taking a step back to look at the three graves as a trio, he noticed a smaller stone to the side of Harry’s, the engraving every bit as fresh. Stepping closer, Severus crouched down to be able to read the small script.

 

_‘For Hermione Jean Granger, the brightest witch of her age. Never forgotten, never loved more than at this moment.’_

Severus saw his shaky breath rise in the freezing air. It was obvious that the girl was not buried in the graveyard.

 

_Muggleborn, her parents probably had a cremation._

Even though he lacked sentiment, Severus couldn’t deny it was a touching finish that Hermione had her place alongside Harry for eternity. He sighed and was about to rise when he noticed that the lower half of the stone protruded slightly, and he reached out his fingers. Snow smeared away to reveal a newer gold plaque.

 

Severus knew what he had discovered before his eyes even found the name.

 

_‘For Ronald Bilius Weasley, much loved son and brother. We have a feeling we never told you just how much, or often enough. You are in our memories forever.’_

“Oh, sweet fucking God,” Severus forced himself to a standing position and looked down at the plaque with his hands clamped over his mouth.

 

The thought that Ron’s family had finally given up on him made his stomach turn, as it had become so used to doing since he had found Ronald Weasley whoring his body in the seedy Knockturn brothel.

 

_They have actually given up on their son and to send him back would be to… Oh, Jesus Christ._

Severus didn’t realise he had begun pacing again, making a path in the snow at the end of the memorials for the people who had all died far, far too young. Thoughts flew through his mind with indecent speed and his throat was throbbing with his restraint, trying to keep from screaming or sobbing.

 

“What do I do?” he asked aloud. “What the hell do I do?”

 

Of course there was no answer but the wind ruffling the trees. Severus stared in anguish at Harry’s stone and let out a bitter breath.

  
“You couldn’t have stayed alive for him, could you? You couldn’t have kept him safe? Why did you have to leave it for me? Was my servitude to _you_ not e- _fucking_ -nough, Potter?!”

 

His words were twisted with scorn and he had to rein his temper in, sure that the residents of Godric’s Hollow would not appreciate an insane madman kicking the hell out of their graveyard’s most revered resident’s memorial.

 

“Five years I managed to live a relatively simple life,” he hissed. “Five years. And you are _still_ messing things up for me, Potter.” He found himself unsure as to which of the three he was talking.

 

The vehemence melted away and he walked up to crouch down by Lily once more. “And you. What do you think of all this? I know I made a mess of myself but do you think I’d be doing the right thing? Or should I keep him, try for happiness whilst I can?”

 

The only answer was the big fat snowflake which landed on his nose, and Severus brushed it away as more flakes fell around his head.

 

“I hate snow,” he muttered, standing up and looking around at them. “I hate snow, and I hate how everything has to be so fucking complicated. And no, Potter, I don’t give a damn that I’m swearing in a church graveyard,” he added conversationally to Harry’s stone.

 

_And that’s it, the final step to my obviously long time coming insanity, talking to the fucking dead, who really, truly are not listening. Get a fucking grip, Severus!_

He gulped hard at the freezing air and jumped suddenly when the church bell tolled the hour behind him. The snow began to fall harder and settled over what he had cleared. His feet moved him unwillingly back to the new gold plate which bore the words from Ron’s family and he knelt down properly in front of it, wet seeping through his robes to freeze his legs.

 

_The last time I visited this place I was knelt sobbing in front of another tombstone. Another redhead’s stone. But this one isn’t dead. He’s alive, his heart beats like mad when he gets excited and he’s a furnace of heat._

He knew where his train of thought was carrying him and it made his throat ache in further agony. He yanked off the glove on his hand and touched his fingers to the icy plaque, running the tips over Ron’s name, feeling how new and deep the etchings were. He wished he knew just _how_ fresh it actually was.

 

_It would make no difference. You have to do this, to give those people their son back, and give their son his chance for life back._

The words were true, even though he would once have labelled them sanctimonious drivel. Despite their honest resonance, they didn’t dull the pain in his throat or the way that his chest was catching up. If anything, he realised, at least his actions could get the miserable plaque removed.

 

_And give them the chance to tell them they love him again._

“Enough with the sentimental bullshit,” he growled at himself, and made to push off the ground, his head facing the snow.

 

His eyes caught something, a sentence etched in impossibly tiny letters on the bottom of the gold, and he moved closer, his eyes squinted, to read what it said.

 

_‘With hope in our hearts that one day you might come back to us yet.’_

He shot to his feet then, stuffing his hand roughly back inside his glove.

 

_Fool, you really should have known that Molly Weasley would never give up hope on one of her brood if there was no solid proof that they were gone. The woman could have taken down the Dark Lord in a temper; she would never give up._

Striding purposefully away from the site, Severus was struck with longing; he stopped and turned around. He looked back, sighing, and crossed the space once more to stand by Lily’s side. Not bothering to check whether anybody was watching, because for once in his life Severus truly did not care, he raised his gloved index and middle fingers to his lips, kissed them, and bent to press them over her name.

 

“I’m not coming back, Lily,” he muttered beneath his breath. “This is the last time.”

 

He straightened, put his shoulders back, took a deep breath, and walked away, heading for the apparition point.

 

***

A mug of tea sat on his coffee table whilst the fire roared in the grate. Severus’ wand was curled in his fingers as he waited for a reply to the Patronus message he had sent.

 

It had taken him all of five minutes to formulate the plan. As he waited he couldn’t help but wish he was anything other than industrious, that his nature would have allowed him to brood over his plans and think on the subject more. But his demanding mind had insisted that the wheels go immediately into motion, in the hopes that it might be free of its torment sooner.

 

_Not bloody likely. When this is all through you have to face the reality. You have always been a man that works efficiently and fast… this is no different._

Severus couldn’t quite figure out how he had arrived at the point he had. He knew that his discomfort had started the night that Ron had asked him to make love to him, to have sex like lovers did. His reactions during the mind-shattering coupling he had at first put down to the large amount of whiskey in his system, but when completely sober the next morning they did not abate, he had been forced to take a long hard look at himself.

 

As ever, he had hated what he’d seen. An old man sleeping with a beautifully young one, keeping the truth from those who desperately would have benefitted from it, whilst his lover needed to be saved from himself.

 

Severus knew all of those elements, he had brooded over them nursing a glass of whiskey like an old hurt lover, but they had been intermingled with his desire to keep Ron by his side, to see what they could make from their burgeoning romance.

 

And then he had woken up from a dream, and his day had rapidly deteriorated.

 

_This is the right thing to do._

He repeated the words so that he might better believe them.

 

The cat’s meow alerted him to Ron’s Patronus’ arrival.

 

_‘Sure, dinner sounds great. I’ll be there at six. Thanks for choosing somewhere so private. I can’t wait to see you.’_

“Oh, wonderful, yes, choose tonight to get clingy and sentimental,” Severus muttered at the dog. He drummed up his own Patronus.

 

_‘Good, I’ll see you tonight then. Make an effort, we’re going somewhere nice.’_

He added that for Ron’s benefit, thinking that when his brothers arrived in the quiet muggle pub that Severus had chosen for the cover of a few pre-dinner drinks, he wouldn’t like to look as though he’d spent five years scumming around the streets of London.

 

The cat faded and Severus bit down hard on his tongue, focussing hard again and bringing the feline back, waiting attentively for another message. He let her hover whilst he magically lowered his voice a little so that it would not be overly recognisable.

 

In a clear, firm voice, he programmed the message that he wished the cat to carry to Bill Weasley. He informed that Ron was alive, and gave the name and location of the pub they would be at. Timing their arrival for half an hour after his and Ron’s own, Severus added his sincerity to the end of the message and begged that it be taken seriously. With that, he directed the cat to the right person, and watched it fade.

 

“Done,” he whispered, in a mortified tone, to the room.

 

There was a loud yowl from beside him and Artemis got to her paws and stalked across the sofa cushion, where she placed the front two on his thigh, looking up at his face. She gave him a mournful meow and waited.

 

“It’s what’s right for him,” Severus looked at her. “I can’t heal him, I should never have tried. It has to be them.”

 

_I’m too old, too broken and too filled with resentment to manage it. He deserves more._

She meowed again and pressed her paws into his leg harder, before nuzzling his wand hand with her head. Then she gave it a gentle lick, one that might never have passed for a lick to anybody with a more affectionate cat, and curled back up on the sofa.

 

_At least the cat understands. Shame he won’t._

Severus sighed then, and looked at the parchment he had set out on the coffee table, ready to write the letter he would give to Ron that evening, begging that he read it when he got home and was alone. Of course, Ron wouldn’t know that Severus actually meant at the Weasley family home, but it was a lie he was willing to chance.

 

As he reached for his quill, Severus wasn’t entirely sure of the letter’s purpose. He truly didn’t believe that after Ron realised that he had been sold out to his family the redhead would want to see him again, and Severus couldn’t blame him for the possibility. Trying to imagine himself in the same position, Severus would never have denied that he would have thrown up the walls of ignorance too, and blocked all contact with the man who had gone against his wishes.

 

 _He needs this. He needs them. Not you._ _Screaming orgasms only get you so far in life, and he has been on the path of sexual punishment for far too long_.

 

Picking up the luxuriously feathered quill, Severus positioned it between his fingers, leaving the ink bottle nearby capped as the magic would instantly refill the nib when required. The paper looked threatening sitting there so blank, and Severus was immediately tingling with the need to fill it up with words, any words, so that his fear would dissipate.

 

He had to acknowledge that he had no idea what to say. Scrawling ‘I’m sorry’ was something he was sure would not adequately soothe Ron’s hurt. _But then,_ he thought, looking down at his hands, _nothing on earth probably will. He will never forgive, he will probably never accept your apology or understand your actions, as he was graceful enough to do the first time that you went against his wishes._

 

Remorse surged in his belly and he nearly snapped the quill in two with the pressure as his hand clenched. He knew there was little he could do now the messages had been sent, bar cancelling his meeting with Ron and sending Bill Weasley on a callous wild-chimaera chase for his dead brother through muggle London. He licked his lips and picked up the quill again, making sure that that time his hand made it to the paper. Severus knew he could not be so cold-hearted as to ruin a family’s hopes like that.

 

_And yet you are cold-hearted enough to betray the boy who has come to trust you._

The nib lifted off the paper again and Severus closed his eyes, willing the indecision to leave him be, to let him do the right thing once more in his life.

 

_He needs them. If Albus was right, and he needs you to make this leap for him, then as the one with age, with experience, you should be the one to make it and neglect your own needs. No matter how many times you have done it before, it should not instantly make you a man who chooses the wrong option to make his own life easier when he feels he deserves it._

Severus coughed and thought back on the words. That time, when he lowered his quill to the page it stayed, but did not move across the paper.

 

_And now, I only have to think of a way to say goodbye to the man who has helped me embrace what I am._

The quill was thrown down with a huff and Severus fell sideways, burying his face into the cat’s fur, moaning his misery where only she could hear it.

 

 _Traitor once again, Severus…_  His guilt continued to assault him.

 

***

Ron stepped out of the shower, shivering in the cool air of his bathroom. Despite being shocked at the invitation, he was greatly looking forward to seeing Severus that evening, and spending some time with him somewhere that wasn’t a room in a brothel or the man in question’s house. He didn’t know why, but he felt like it would be the first time that they were meeting on an equal footing, and it made him happy to think of it.

 

He snatched a towel off the rack and wrapped it snugly about his thin waist, making his way over to the mirror to inspect himself. His hair was a deep wet auburn mess plastered to his head and his face was pale but clean shaven. Reaching for his wand he drummed up a steady flow of hot air, layering it through the wetness.

 

Currently longer than it had ever been before, his hair had gentle waves in it the more it crept towards his shoulders. Not for the first time he looked at the ends of it with a small smile, thinking of how his mother would have gone through the roof and given him at least three brutally short haircuts by that point.

 

Ron didn’t deny that he liked his hair that length, it was different, and it was his –and it was completely separate from his old life. His body, too, thin as it was, represented his life for the past five years, a life so far away from his past that he knew he would never be able to deny how much it was a part of him.

 

His hair dry and respectable, he dropped his wand into the sink and rested his hands on either side of it, looking in the mirror at his reflection.

 

_Not a complete face for the wireless, but still… I’ll never get what they all found so fucking attractive. What Severus **still** finds attractive…_

Ron looked at the flame in his hair and wondered if that was it; if it was his auburn locks which held the attraction for Severus Snape, considering his past love for Lily Evans, another redhead.

 

_Or maybe it was just chance. His first whore was a brunette and I doubt he had the same reactions for him…_

The alarm he’d set on his clock in the other room sounded and he jumped, dashing out into his bedroom to search for clean and presentable clothes. He didn’t have many, but what he did have was of good quality and of course, they all perfectly accentuated his physical assets, having been bought in his days as a whore. He pulled on the smart black jeans, thinking of how his mother would have pitched a fit if she knew he didn’t possess a single pair of proper trousers. He shrugged into the navy shirt and ran his fingers up the buttons.

 

_God, why can’t I get my mother out of my head tonight?_

 

He blinked a few times, but still, her smiling face wouldn’t move from his mind.

 

“There’s a reason,” Harry spoke to him cryptically.

“Oh, fuck’s sake Harry, not now,” Ron groaned, running his hands over his face. “I’m going out.”

“I know,” Harry replied, with an impish sort of smile. “On a date.”

 

Ron looked at him then, taking in his pearly form and hair, ever messy. “It’s not a date.”  
“I think it is,” Harry shrugged. “You’re going out for dinner with Severus Snape.”

“If it is a date, what’s it to you?” Ron shrugged, reaching for his wallet and keys.

“A very great deal, actually,” Harry said softly.

“Why are you even here?” Ron frowned suddenly. “I’m not hurt and I’m not upset…”

“Sometimes, I get bored,” Harry shrugged. “But I’m going. I just wanted to wish you luck for your date, is all.”

“Well, thanks very much, but it’s not a date, because this isn’t a relationship,” Ron informed him.

“If you say so,” Harry snorted, and then paused before speaking again, his tone somewhat tentative. “Treat him well, eh?”

“Okay, now I _know_ this is fucked up,” Ron groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, Harry was gone and he was alone again. “Fucking hell I’m mental,” he breathed.

 

He shoved his arms into his coat, checked the contents of his pockets and that he had his wand, and left the flat.

 

 

 

“No, Ron, you’re not mental,” Harry said sadly to the empty flat. “But I wish I could have told you that this was goodbye.”

 

He cast a last longing look around the flat he had grown to know so well, and sighed.

 

***

Time had sped up to an indecent pace as Severus looked at the approaching redhead, his face graced by a beautiful smile. Considering their muggle surroundings, Ron did not bend to kiss him, but as the tall man dropped into his seat and purposefully knocked his knee against Severus’, it was clear he had wanted to.

 

“Godric’s balls it’s cold out there,” Ron muttered, rubbing his hands together.

“Don’t you possess gloves?” Severus forced himself to smile, hoping it looked natural. “They are somewhat useful in preventing frostbite, you know.”

“Ah, shut your face,” Ron rolled his eyes and finished in a wink. “Thanks for this,” he indicated the free glass of wine waiting on his side of the table.

 

“Not at all,” Severus picked up his own and took a healthy mouthful.

 

The letter in his pocket was weighing as heavy as the rose and vanilla card had the first time he and Ron had ever slept together. It was sealed and ready to give, though he dreaded the moment that he planned to reach inside his coat pocket and pull it out. Whether Ron would suspect something, he didn’t know. Severus supposed that the proof of the trust he was about to shatter would be blatant in how the redhead accepted the envelope.

 

“So, how was your day?” Ron asked in his usual sexy tone. “You’re back to work soon, aren’t you?”

“Oh, Merlin, don’t remind me,” Severus poured all of his anger and remorse into the subject of returning to the Ministry. “I really don’t know how I’m going to bear another year there.”  
“How long do you have to stay working for them?” Ron asked, picking up his glass and taking an altogether too delicate a sip for a man.

  
Severus watched the stem of the glass twiddle between Ron’s fingers as he tilted the glass, sloshing the red liquid around.

 

_How will he ever cope at home? If he never tells them, how will he hide what he has been? It screams out of his every pore, from the way he flirts up from beneath his fringe to the way he’s molesting that wine glass –if it were a cock, it’d be hard and leaking by now._

Thinking of cocks and arousal did nothing for Severus’ mood, remembering that after that evening he was unlikely to feel the touch of another man on his crotch again unless he paid for the privilege.

 

_And I already know I will never set foot in another brothel again._

 

“There was no determined period,” Severus sighed. “So we took it to mean indefinitely. One day one of us will summon the courage to ask, I suppose.”

“I can’t believe they did that to you,” Ron said bitterly. “You just know that if Harry had been around that it wouldn’t have happened.”  
“Maybe not for me,” Severus said pointedly. “But Draco?”

“Harry was fair,” Ron took a mouthful of wine. “I think on many levels by the end he felt sorry for Draco. I know he felt pity in our sixth year, eventually.”

 

“Still, for my godson, I am glad of the chance we had, almost. I am happy that he can earn money and save for his future.”  
“His wedding,” Ron’s eyes took on a slightly glazed look as he focussed on the table. “I’ll never have that. Malfoy might as well.”

 

The unspoken addition to that sentence hung in the air; that Ron would never have it due to the war that Malfoy had helped to fuel from the wrong side. Severus awkwardly shifted his legs beneath the table and looked at the other patrons simply so that he would not have to look at Ron.

 

_He doesn’t even know there’s a memorial to her, resting next to Harry. And he certainly doesn’t know he’s been commemorated in the same way._

“What did you do today?” Severus got them back on track with a small smile.

“Not much, I just stayed in bed for most of it and read. Looked through some papers to see if I could find any jobs going.”

“Any luck?” Severus asked.

“No,” Ron sighed. “I’ve never worked behind a bar, what the hell use am I going to be, Severus? Or even washing plates in a restaurant –I’m clumsy, I’ll just break everything.”

“And you’re a wizard,” Severus replied in a low voice. “Instantly any muggle task becomes far easier…”

 

“You’re funny,” Ron made a face and sighed.

 

The door to the pub swung open and Severus’ heart leapt into his mouth, but it returned to his chest when a great cheer went up from a group who welcomed their new arrival loudly. He had positioned himself opposite a door for fair warning, and had been glad when Ron had unwittingly seated himself with his back to it. He glanced at the clock behind the bar and saw that it was a quarter past six. He had fifteen minutes of the glorious whore’s – _no, he’s not a whore anymore; he’s just Ron-_ company before he had to say goodbye.

 

With that in mind, he leant forward and with a hasty eye around them, grabbed Ron’s free hand.

 

“Severus,” he said quietly, looking around them. “What are you doing?”

 

His pale face was an inquisitive frown and Severus knew exactly what he was wondering: how a man who could barely admit he was gay looking in the mirror could move to grabbing another man’s hand in the middle of a public place.

 

“I’ve realised that I cannot hide my sexuality any longer,” Severus said in a low voice, lowering his dark eyes to Ron’s hand, which he held in a tight grip. “It is time for me to grow up and accept myself as I am.”

 

Ron’s sapphire eyes widened slightly and he set down his wine glass. Swiftly he covered their joined hands with his other free one, and stroked a soft pattern with his thumb over Severus’ knuckles. “That’s great, Severus, really. I’m so… so proud of you, if you’ll believe that.”

“Proud, why?” Severus smiled.

“When you first came to me,” Ron’s voice lowered, “You were such a wreck. To make it this far in just a month? It’s amazing. I am _so_ happy for you.”

“Well, really, I don’t think I should be praised for something I have been foolishly denying for most of my life, but if it makes you happy…” he trailed off, and Ron gave him a warm smile.

“So… what will you do now?” the redhead asked pointedly, his eyes betraying his nervousness. “Will you try for a relationship? If you want, I can look up the list of gay clubs I’ve got somewhere, places that it’s easy to meet people because they have all sorts of systems to display what you’re looking for… it’s in the flat.”

 

Severus didn’t know how to answer the man, whether to hurt him then and there and ask for the list, or to lie, and say ‘I’d like to give it a go with you’ only for both of their dreams to be dashed in the following ten minutes.

 

“I’m not quite sure,” he bottled out, and the blush which tainted his cheeks was made of very real embarrassment.

“Baby steps,” Ron teased, and gave his hand a squeeze. “I really am pleased for you, Severus. Somewhere there’s a bloke that’s going to match you perfectly, snarl for snark, and you’re going to have a lovely, if slightly snappy, life together.”

 

Ron stopped talking but did not release Severus’ hand.

 

“I have something for you,” Severus tried to pull away, but Ron did not let his hand go.

 

He watched with wide eyes as the redhead lifted his long slim hand up to the sumptuous lips which Severus had dreamt of being wrapped around his cock just that very morning, and pressed a soft kiss to each knuckle. Only then did he release the hand, which felt like jelly to Severus, and lean back in his chair.

 

“What is it?” he asked, almost excitedly, and Severus wanted to sob.

“Nothing much,” he reached for the letter, his fingertips gracing the parchment with a fine sheen of their sweat. “I… look. This is for you, but I need you to promise me something?”

 

Ron frowned. “Of course, Severus, what is it?”

“I want you to promise that you won’t open this until you are home tonight, and alone?” Severus handed it over to him.

 

Ron accepted the parchment and looked at the green wax seal closing the envelope. “It’s not money, is it?” he asked with a slightly sick expression.

“No, I assure you, Ron, it’s not money. Those days are long past for us.”

“Good,” Ron’s frown turned into a confident smile, and he slipped the letter into an inside pocket of his coat without further comment. “Writing me love letters, eh? Who’d have thought it, you soppy git.”

 

“Do shut up,” Severus drawled at him indifferently, whilst inside his chest shattered with grief.

 

“So where are we going for dinner?” Ron asked cheerfully. “The kind of place that won’t mind two blokes dining together, I hope?”

 

Severus didn’t answer him, because the pub door had just swung open again, and Bill Weasley walked over the threshold, followed by a shorter, stockier redhead.

 

_George? Shit, he’s every bit as thin as Ron is._

 

“Severus?” Ron asked, waving his hand in front of his face. “Is the dinner as much of a surprise as the letter is or what?”

 

Severus raised his glass and knocked back the rest of his drink, unable to disguise the way his hand shook. The glass rattled slightly against his teeth.

 

“You’re really worrying me, Severus, are you alright?” Ron breathed, sitting up straighter in his chair and reaching across the table.

  
“Ron,” Severus said softly.  
“What?!” the redhead asked frustratedly.

 

Severus didn’t have to answer, because at that moment Bill reached out his hand and placed it on Ron’s shoulder, and the glittering sapphires pointed upward. He wanted to run then, to get as far away from Ron as he possibly could so that he might not see the anger and damage in his eyes.

 

Severus dropped his gaze to the table and heard the scraping of a chair and the table bumped slightly as Ron knocked against it. There were no sounds other than the background chatter in the pub, and he swore that at any moment his heartbeat would become audible to the entire room.

 

_It is done now. There is no point in reviling your decisions._

 

He heard a ruffling of clothes and forced himself to look up. The two taller brothers were entwined almost indecently in their closeness. Ron had one hand gripping his brother’s long loose hair, his other around Bill’s waist. However, it was not his posture which held Severus’ attention –it was the expression his pale face. Tilted slightly upward due to the way Bill was clutching Ron so tightly, his features looked somewhat slack. Severus had seen them so before; it was the same appearance the redhead often sported after sex –one enhanced by a complete bodily release of tension. He swallowed nervously and heard the low rumblings of Bill talking directly into Ron’s ear.

 

Severus had seen enough. His stomach was barely holding onto the sparse amount of food he had forced himself to eat throughout the day and he couldn’t take the show of brotherly love beyond that he had already witnessed.

 

He quietly shifted his coat onto his shoulders from the back of his chair, and rose to his feet. His chair traitorously screeched on the wooden floorboards and Severus’ face flew up again.

 

Ron had obviously heard his botched attempt at a stealthy getaway, and slowly his eyes opened. Severus forced himself to meet them and was astounded by what he saw there.

 

He didn’t think he had ever seen a human being look _so_ relieved, so comforted. _Almost grateful._

 

His throat burning, Severus stepped out from the table and pulled level with the still-hugging pair, and felt the eyes of George Weasley on his person.

 

“Ron I… your letter,” Severus finished quietly, gave him a last burning look, and exited the pub, his body flaming with regret as he stepped out into the cold.

 

***

“I just need the toilet,” Ron breathed, dropping his face down into his hands.

 

It felt like a surreal dream. He was sitting in the kitchen of his childhood home, surrounded by the members of his family who all wore the same shocked expression, had the same pallor of skin tone and none of whom could tear their eyes off him.

 

“It’s been five years,” Molly Weasley uttered for the hundredth time, “Five years, you think I am ever letting you out of my sight again?!”

 

She dissolved into tears and Ginny followed her. Ron sat looking down at the battered wooden table, the shame causing a flush to creep up around his neck and on the tips of his ears.

 

He didn’t even have his coat off. All he could think of, still, was the moment he had looked up into the face of his brother, and the way they had hugged, and more than that, the way he had _felt._ Safe, warm, loved; the feelings rolled back instantly and Ron couldn’t believe that he had ever felt hard done by, that he had ever felt the least loved by the group of people currently sitting around him.

 

“Where were you?” Arthur beseeched him again. “We looked, Ron, we looked all over… for years… and you were…”

 

Ron hadn’t said much since Bill and George had brought him home. He had hugged, and he had cried –when it came to his mother he had very nearly sobbed- but his words had been very few.

 

“Dad, I…” his voice croaked as the kitchen fell silent, waiting for his explanation. “I know this’ll make you all angry, and you have every right to be… but… I would like to keep the past five years my own business,” he recalled Severus’ suggestion and clung to it.

“Fuck off!” Ginny yelled abruptly. “You leave us all here, wondering where your body was _rotting_ and when you waltz back in you don’t want to tell us any of it?! No!”

 

Ron closed his eyes and fought to breathe. He didn’t know if his struggle was obvious, but if it was he was glad when the next voice piped up.

 

“Gin, for Merlin’s sake pipe down,” George muttered. “Take a bloody look at him before you go off on one.”

“Will you stay?” Arthur asked loudly. “If we promise to let the past alone, Ron, and promise that we will never ask you where you’ve been or what you’ve done to survive alone, will you stay?” The desperation in the man’s offer was very clear, and Ron was shocked that his father would forgo answers simply to keep him, even though Severus had suggested it might happen.

 

He forced his eyes open, but did not raise them from the table. He didn’t have to consider his answer. He found now that he was home, in the comforting warmth, he never wanted to leave it again. He never wanted to go back to his dingy flat with the harrowing memories it held. “I’ll stay.”

 

He felt a strong pair of arms grab him from behind then, and a warm head pressed against his. A curl near his eye told him it was Charlie, and the familiar scent of dragonhide polishing crème and spice slammed into his senses.

 

“I _knew_ you weren’t dead,” the low mutter in his ear was just for him and Ron broke then, his chin lowering into his chest and tears spilling down his face.

 

“Oh fuck,” he mumbled. “I missed you all so much. I’m so sorry.”

 

At some point someone heaved him out of his chair and he was passed from one set of arms to another, and he had no idea who he was hugging, and his sense of smell deadened. He was finally released and he wobbled dizzily, feeling like a massive rush of blood had converged on his brain.

 

“I need…”

“What?” his mother’s concerned voice rang out.

“The loo,” Ron finished lamely.

 

George laughed then, and he snorted out his next words. “You’ve not changed, Ron, you’ve got the shittiest timing the world!”

 

Ron laughed softly, the back of his throat raw. Of course, he didn’t need the toilet; he only wanted to be alone so that he could examine the letter burning a whole through his inside pocket.  
  
“Well,” his mother sniffed hard. “You know where it is, or have you forgotten?”

“Never, Mum,” he gave her a tiny smile. “But… well… Isn’t someone going to escort me or something?”

“Are you going to run again?” Ginny asked pointedly.

“No,” Ron said quietly. “I don’t think so.”

“Then you can find your own way to the bloody bog,” George said brightly. “Mum, what’s for dinner?”

 

And Ron watched as one by one, his family looked at him, smiled madly, and melted back into what they had been doing before Bill had shouted for their attention on arriving back within The Burrow. He swayed slightly and had to grip onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

 

“It’s not healthy to hold it in, Ron,” George poked him in the back. “And you’re kind of in the way of the bread. Prodigal son returning doesn’t mean dinner gets put on hold, not in this house.”

“I’m sorry I’m late!” The voice announced from the fireplace, “I was stuck in a meeting and I…”

 

Ron stiffened, Percy’s voice ringing out in the silence which fell. His brother’s brown eyes fell on him and Ron nervously shifted his weight between his feet.

“What?” Percy asked weakly. “What the…”

“It’s alright Perce, he’s real,” Bill smirked happily.

 

Ron nearly fell over as he heard the long stream of expletive which poured from his usually fastidious brother’s lips, and he found himself swept up in his strongest embrace yet.

 

“Don’t squeeze him too hard, he needs the loo,” George laughed.

“Someone, explain. Now!” Percy broke off and fell backwards into a pulled out chair, his eyes never leaving Ron.  


“I received a mysterious tip off about lunchtime,” Bill said. “Saying he was alive and that he would be somewhere tonight… and he was.”

“Who was the tip off from?” Percy asked immediately.

“Severus Snape,” Bill fixed his eyes on Ron.

 

Ron felt the room swell with burgeoning questions and he used the moment to duck out of the kitchen and into the hallway, setting his foot on the bottom stair.

 

The smell of the house overpowered him then, the many scents of different people all living under one roof; their individual essences mingled to create the aroma of the place he hadn’t called home in five very long years.

 

He forced himself up the stairs, his mind blurred with everything that had happened that evening, from arriving at the pub, to drinking with Severus, to his brothers turning up…

 

_I can’t believe he…_

 

Ron pushed into the bathroom and lit it. It looked exactly as he had remembered; nothing had changed in the years of his absence. Without bothering to lift the lid he sank down on the toilet, his hand rummaging for the correspondence in his pocket. He looked at the green wax seal and his eyes inexplicably filled with more tears, and his stomach lurched with trepidation at what the letter might contain.

 

With trembling fingers, he prised it open and unfolded the stiff parchment. The spidery handwriting was the same as he remembered it scrawled over his Potions homework. There, though, the words had insulted him, but as he forced his watering eyes to focus on the page, he discerned what looked like verses of a poem.

 

“ _I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever,_ _If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they'd not sever,_ _My apple tree, my brightness 'tis time we were together,_ _For I smell of the earth and am worn by the weather._ _When my family thinks that I'm safe in my bed,_ _From night until morning I am stretched at your head._ _Calling out to the air with tears hot and wild,_ _My grief for the girl that I loved as a child._ _The priests and the friars approach me in dread,_ _Because I still love you, my love, and you’re dead._ _And still would be your shelter through rain and through storm_ _For with you in the cold ground I cannot sleep warm._

_~I Am Stretched on Your Grave, anon, c.17 th century._

_I could not let the above be your life, Ron. It is bad enough that up until I stumbled across you, it was my own. Don’t live the poem any longer. Please. Cry your tears now with the aid of the wretchedness that is this miserable lament and then rip up my letter, and move on._

_I do not expect forgiveness. Just don’t die._

_Yours unfailingly,_

_Severus.”_

On finishing Ron immediately read the whole thing again, his jaw shivering with the pain of the poem copied out meticulously on the paper in his hand. He read it over and over, until the words became a dizzying blur and the room disappeared as he dropped his chin and let the hot tears roll off his face, thinking of the last line of the letter, and the first time Severus had spoken those words to him a mere few days before.

 

Every bit of lightness which had crept into his slight frame at coming home -at feeling his mother’s arms loop around him and kiss him on the cheek, evaporated into cold fear of the fact that he was alone amongst them, a sheep amongst wolves who would surely flounder after so long on his own.

 

Ron had known from the second that Bill had pulled him into his arms that it was right, that he was meant to make the journey home with them. The sheer warmth radiating off his brother’s form had been enough to convince him above all other inclination. They had waited, they had loved him, they _still_ loved him, and they wanted him.

 

But he couldn’t deny that Severus’ obvious expectance of a rebuttal was like a kick in the gut. His family were not the only people that cared for him. The dark-haired man, so broken with his cold constructed barriers… that man also cared, and sitting in the freezing bathroom, Ron realised just how deeply he cared for Severus in return.

 

Quite how long he sat there, Ron wasn’t sure. The lid of the toilet was cold beneath his legs and his neck hurt from his slumped position, but he hardly cared. He simply sat and sobbed in his family’s bathroom, unable to do anything but cry, his chest aching with longing for the past, but more for the author of the letter which he held, the parchment creasing in his tight grip.


	7. Chapter 7

Severus was well aware that the generic term for what he was doing was called ‘wallowing’. Three days had passed since he had walked out of the sub-par muggle pub leaving Ron at the mercy of his family. He hadn’t washed, he’d barely eaten though he had drunk plenty of alcohol, and he hadn’t bothered to keep up his usual regime of cleanliness in the house because there was little point when all he was doing was lying in bed bar his trips to the bathroom.

 

The curtains had stayed closed; the thumps on the door and steady pinging alert of the Floo went ignored. He had sent one owl, and that was to the Ministry requesting some long overdue holiday time, which had been granted.

 

Severus had celebrated by cracking open another bottle of whiskey and falling asleep for the better part of the day.

 

But Severus had suddenly hit a very large snag in his plan of self-punishment: he had run out of alcohol. So, he found himself horizontal, wrapped snugly in his duvet, book long finished resting on the side of the bed that he seemed unable to consider as anything other than Ron’s, and was bored out of his wits.

 

_People make a living out of doing nothing, out of slumming around their own homes. How on earth do they do it? I’m going round the bend!_

It had been fine whilst hovering in a drunken trance, because drinking whiskey had an overall soporific effect on him, and therefore knocked him out for a good few hours.

 

_But before that we have the usual self-flagellation which even **I** was starting to find somewhat tedious by the end._

 

Severus huffed to himself and closed his eyes to the ceiling, trying to keep his thoughts away from the redhead haunting his every waking breath. However, with each fresh attack of longing it was harder to fight the onslaught, and biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, Severus growled in frustration.

 

_This is absolutely ridiculous –rendered bedridden by a starved, gangly ginger whore who is nothing but a good fuck._

The words were loud and firm, even in his brain, but they were soon replaced by a softer tone and a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

 

_Except he’s not just a whore. He’s a beautiful young man with an arse you could balance a bottle of ale on, let it topple off his rounded fucking cheeks and spend an hour licking the spilled mess from his crack. Of course, then you’d have to add some more and…_

Infuriated with the way he couldn’t keep his mind out of the gutter for more than a minute at a time, Severus threw himself over onto his empty stomach and buried his face in Ron’s pillow.

 

_I thought we had established that it was, in fact, **not** his pillow. It would be easier to believe that if the blasted thing didn’t stink of rose and vanilla._

He wasn’t quite sure how it did; Ron had only used it four times and actually, when he thought about it, at least half of those nights had been spent cuddled into Severus’ body, sharing a pillow between them.

 

_And sweet Circe, how much better this wallowing would be if he were here with me to keep me occupied._

Severus let out a derisive snort at his mind’s idea of ‘occupied’. Once upon a time that would have been brewing a particularly difficult potion, or reading new research in a far flung field of science. Now, ‘occupied’ was solely associated with gasping breaths, sweating bodies and a shuddering, climaxing redhead.

 

_I don’t have to do this; I could get up, wash, eat, tidy the house and go into work for the afternoon._

For a moment, Severus seriously considered it and even went as far as tautening his muscles with the aim of pushing himself up onto his hands and knees ready to leave the bed. But then the fight sapped out of him and even though he already lay flat out on it, he seemed to sink further into the mattress.

 

_Mattress smelling decidedly unpleasant after three days and nights of unwashed man…_

“Fuck it,” Severus swore loudly, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I fucking deserve to wallow. I haven’t let myself wallow since nineteen eighty- _fucking_ -one.”

 

There was very great truth in that. Severus couldn’t even really remember the last time he had thrown himself to the lions of misery quite as willingly as he had done the night he had walked out on Ron. He didn’t even particularly want to. But he couldn’t deny that whilst drunk the whole thing had been rather marvellous, when sober it was fast becoming decidedly dull.

 

_And then what do I do, hmm? Go to work, see Bill Weasley in the corridor, nod politely and never ask how he is? If he stayed? If he didn’t run outside and hang himself from a fucking tree?_

His body shivered involuntarily at the very idea of Ron’s tall corpse swinging from a rope and he groaned again, hating the way his mind could make the distressing images so vivid that he even thought of the greyish pallor of the man’s skin and the way that the flesh beneath the rope would be purpled and bruised.

 

_And that has always been my ultimate problem –over-thinking everything, underestimating everybody and never having the luck to make things right for myself._

He laughed at himself then, thinking of luck when he knew there was no such thing, only players, winners, losers and the lazy. Severus ignored the fact that those who believed in luck were the ones that seemed to have it. Sighing, he rolled onto his side, grabbing at the duvet childishly so that no part of his body became uncovered as he rolled, and stared at the glowing red figures telling the time on his bedside cabinet.

 

_What’s he doing?_

 

The thought was one he had had often over the past days, normally always accompanied by ‘where is he?’ and ‘is he alright?’

 

Severus didn’t realise how much of a full-time occupation his anxiety for Ronald Weasley had become. As he had lain in bed, both drunk and sober, his thoughts fixated on the tall, willowy man. He considered his hair, the way it waved the closer it got to his shoulders, and his neck, so manly and yet delicate at the same time, leading to collarbones which were forced into prominence by his thinness, but were delicious to lick and nibble.

 

His physical attachment to the redhead was something that shocked him greatly. Severus had never been one to pine merely for good looks alone. Wryly, he thought back to the gorgeous spectacle Sirius Black had been, with his olive toned skin, gleaming black hair, and full lips set off to perfection by deep grey eyes. He had been physically attractive, as every red-blooded teenager in the whole of Hogwarts had known. But Severus knew that hadn’t been his primary attraction –the chief appeal, as twisted as it made him, had been Black’s ability to use his quick mouth, his wit and his charm to get what he wanted and to get those around him acting as he desired. The power, Severus realised, was what he had longed for. The handsome wrapping served merely as a bonus for his right hand to play with whilst his teenage hormones rampaged. And Lily, Lily he had loved for everything, not just her beautiful face. Her power had been her kindness, a power he had no experience of.

 

Severus narrowed his eyes at the clock as he considered why he should be so physically infatuated with the redhead, then. Maybe he had had power in the whorehouse, but not out of it, Severus knew. In the brothel he had been king, analysing Severus’ every move to determine what kind of lover he required, what would make him feel relaxed and overall, what would make him cry out as he reached orgasm.

 

Ron knew all that in spades, Severus conceded. He knew how to cuddle up to his cold Potions Master to make him feel warm and wanted; he knew how to curl his tongue off the head of his cock to make him writhe.

 

_But what the fuck else does the boy have? He’s emotionally stunted, living for friends long gone, he’s let his body be used and abused by all and sundry. He’s at best mentally ill and at worst completely fucked. But then, I suppose, my own odds at his age were hardly any better. And I’m still breathing._

Severus exhaled loudly to prove his own point, and then closed his eyes to the blurred digits on the display.

 

_If he came back, what could we have? I am older, bitter, set in my ways, and he is young and deserves to find his niche in the world. Holding him back would only hurt him; not to mention that letting him in only to have him leave three years down the line would just about kill me._

There was one thing that Severus was certain about: if Ron did return to him, it would be the end for any further romantic prospects, for the rest of his life. Having the redhead in his arms would be heaven, and yet if it were to be taken away, Severus knew he would never fully recover. He had thought that where Lily was concerned, and to his word it had taken him over twenty years to patch up his soul with careful needlework. But Lily had died. If Ron were to leave and be alive, merely bored and looking for another man to cuddle up to, Severus knew what that would mean for his life, for his essence.

 

_Always been your problem –when you fall, you fall hard and fast and Merlin help anyone with other plans._

His mind drifted to the first day he had ever laid eyes on Lily Evans. Her red hair had been long, even then, tied back in a skilfully worked plait and tied with a band with a fake flower on it. He remembered watching it dance about as she jumped her way through the hopscotch grid she had chalked out on the pavement. His dark eyes had followed the little flower and by the time Lily had reached the end of her game, that had been it –he had been in love with the kind-looking girl who seemed to radiate warmth.

 

_As I said, hard and fast._

 

Severus wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he was in any kind of love with Ron at that moment, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before the content feelings in his chest blossomed, should the redhead visit him a few more times.

 

_And yet there’s been nothing, no word for three days. He knows how easy it is to converse with me by Patronus, we’ve done it countless times since Christmas. He knows I will always answer, no matter what time of night he sends that bloody mutt._

He had given up wondering how on earth he had reached the point that he had, merely waiting for the call of a whore to drag him from his self-imposed stupor.

 

_You **must** stop referring to him as a whore, because he no longer is one. And hopefully he never will be again._

Severus couldn’t deny that there was a thrill that went through him at referring to Ron by his old title, if only because he knew he was now the sole beneficiary of his talent. He couldn’t stop the shiver of delight possibly because of the element of possession it afforded him.

 

_And alongside falling hard and fast, you have always been a possessive lunatic. Ron should run far, far away whilst he still can._

 

_Not to mention the fact that you are his only link to the past five years, the last client lingering on… if he wants shot then it would hardly be the time to dig your heels and claws in considering the bridge you have burnt and built anew for him._

 

With a heavy sigh, Severus landed on his back, where he had started, and blinked up at the ceiling. His movement caused the air to stir in the duvet and he flinched at the stench rising from his armpits.

 

_Filthy hypocrite. Remember the grief you gave him for laying around in his filth!_

Severus swallowed hard on his painful throat, remembering that nobody was there to smell him, and pathetically yanked the duvet up over his head to blank out the room he was bored of looking at.

 

***

Ron fiddled with the cuff on his new robes, trying to keep his mind on the conversation which Kingsley was trying to hold with him.

 

“I’ve worked with the press to minimise the attention,” the black wizard said carefully. “But Ron, you have to expect a certain amount. Both good and bad… Not everyone will understand the reasons you had to disappear.”

 

Ron tried to answer him but found his throat fogged. He cleared it and kept his eyes on his arm when he spoke. “I get that, Kingsley, and I’m grateful for what you’ve done so far. Thank you.”

 

“You haven’t heard the rest yet,” Kingsley sent a grimace that Ron’s diverted eyes did not see. “I think, to stop them hounding you, the best way to do this is probably to organise a press conference, and we’d select who was there, allow a very short question time with pre-submitted questions which _you_ can approve, and then we’ll tell them that’s it.”

“Sounds good,” Ron nodded a few times and fell silent.

 

He wasn’t trying to be deliberately rude, or even deliberately quiet, but he couldn’t keep his mind on the meeting when he considered what he had planned for after it. Ron raised his other hand to his mouth and traced his fingertips lightly over his lips, the silver cuff he had willingly submitted to on his wrist flashing in the lights of the Minister’s warm office.

 

“Did your family ask you to do that?” Kingsley motioned to it, a strange expression on his face.

“Oh, what, this?” Ron waved his arm in question. “No. It… well. It was my suggestion to put their minds at rest. Five years and suddenly I’m home again, I don’t blame them for being terrified I’d run away.”

“What are the conditions of it?”

“Nothing really, I’m not restricted to anywhere but it does detect my bodily reactions, moods…anything below ‘sad’ sets the damn thing off alerting half the bloody family and everyone upwards to Merlin himself, I think. I can’t remove it; if I chop my arm off it’ll just tell them I’ve done it… and it’s got a tracing spell so they could even retrieve my severed limb.”

 

Kingsley laughed, the low deep sound filling the room. “I think that was a very… well, I think that was very good of you. You are, after all, a grown man now and your life is your own.”

“Not in their eyes,” Ron said quietly. “Because I didn’t grow up in front of them. I expect the rest of the wizarding world will be much the same.”

 

“Things are peaceful,” Kingsley shook his head. “And the people love it. You may find that their attention peaks for a while and then it dwindles, because they don’t want to be reminded of the horrible times your memory will bring up.”

“Charming,” Ron snorted, and finally looked up at the man, who laughed with him.

“So, are we in agreement on the press conference? You think it’s a good idea?”

“Why are you even asking me, Kings, you’re the bloody Minister for Magic,” Ron pointed out, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

“Because I’m determined, Ron, that you won’t become some Ministry pawn to be shunted from pillar to post. I would never have allowed it to happen to Harry, and I will never allow it to happen to you, now you’ve returned.”

 

Ron bit into his lip, trying to think of ample words to convey his gratitude. Kingsley just waved him away and shuffled the papers on his desk.

  
“Of course, the money you were designated at the end of the war is still waiting for you, you realise?”

“Yes, my pay off for risking my life for a whole year, camping…” Ron raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

“There was public call for it,” Kingsley shrugged. “And we acted. It’s all yours –and it’s for a hell of a lot more than camping, as you well know. I’ll have it transferred to your account by the end of the day. You’ll probably be surprised to find yourself somewhat richer this evening than you were this morning. Enough that you’ll not have to work for a few years…”

 

“Oh, yeah, like my mother’s going to let that happen,” Ron laughed, and got to his feet, the new robes falling fluidly to the floor.

 

Ron hadn’t protested when his mother had taken him first to Diagon Alley, and then muggle London, to re-furnish his wardrobe. The robes were of a deep blue to enhance his eyes and were of better quality than any he had ever worn before, seeing as they had anticipated he would be in and out of the Ministry for a few weeks. Surprisingly high necked with delicate silver buttons, Ron felt like he floated as he moved.

 

He reached forward and shook Kingsley’s hand with a small smile.

 

“It’s amazing to see you, Ron. And if you think, a few months down the line, you would like to have the Auror position which was always going to be yours… just say the word.”

 

With a nod, Ron left the office, closing the door with a gentle click behind him. Finding renewed purpose, he turned left and headed towards the back route to be able to locate the Department of Dark Magic Investigation and Registration without an audience. As he stepped into the cooler corridors off the beaten track of the Ministry, he took in several deep breaths.

 

If he was honest, Ron didn’t feel like his feet had touched the ground since the night in the pub. He had floated along, taking everything in with good grace, the hugs, the tears, the heartfelt words of his family. He had imparted, shed and said a good few of his own, too, but it still hadn’t anchored him to the reality. He knew there was only one thing that was really going to, and that was seeking Severus out and talking with him.

 

The letter was, as it had been since he had read it for the fortieth time before forcing himself out of the bathroom, folded up and kept close to his heart. He knew it was a sentiment that Severus would never have approved of, but he couldn’t help the way he had become attached to the increasingly ratty looking parchment. As he walked he could feel it burning against his skin through fabric. The hem of his robes swished about his ankles.

 

_It feels so fucking good to be covered up, to know I never have to show myself off again if I don’t want to…_

 

The high neck on his robes hadn’t been a completely innocent choice. All he had wanted to do for three years was cover his body up, to stop putting himself so brazenly in the limelight. The robes, with their soft and swishy fabric, were the perfect place to hide and he felt confident in them as he moved through the ministry, keeping his face to the floor.

 

His hair was the same, though his mother had been eyeing it continuously. George had commented that it made him look rather poncy and poetic, and Ron had snorted and ignored him.

 

_If that’s what Severus wants, poncy and poetic, I’ll never cut it again._

Even as he walked up the long, steep staircases of the Ministry, never used by those that worked there, Ron couldn’t help but wonder about the dark-haired Slytherin’s motives, in everything.

 

The first night that he had returned, he had lain awake, crying quietly in his bed a never ending waterfall of salt which made his head throb painfully, but refused to stop. That night, he had just missed Severus.

 

The second night, he had managed to stop the flow of tears but in their wake there formed a steady flow of questions –where was Severus, what was he doing, who was he with, was he alright? The man’s face had hovered Ron’s mind’s eyes, and it was not the sexy, post-coital hazed expression which made his cock twitch in his boxers; it was the pained, devastated look Severus had sported as he had left the pub.

 

The third night, Ron hadn’t started off with tears; he had merely lain awake, staring at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, thinking. He thought about whether Severus had ever truly enjoyed his attentions, whether he kept coming back for more because he _liked_ the feel of Ron’s hands on his body and his tongue in private places, or whether he returned because his plan of salvation had already been formulated.

 

And Ron had only cried on the third night when his mind convinced him that the latter had been the truth.

 

Bitter tears had fallen again and as he had roughly shoved them away, he’d decided that he couldn’t wait any longer. He had not contacted Severus before out of a mark of respect, giving the man time to think, if that was what he needed. Ron was somewhat sure it would be, after all, Severus seemed so methodical and deep that time would surely help.

 

But Ron had had enough of time; he had had enough of giving the man leeway. And that was why he was headed towards the DDMIR. Surprising Severus in the middle of the workday was probably _not_ the best of times, Ron recognised, but he didn’t want his family to know he was visiting.

 

He had come to the conclusion that if Severus had really only ever been acting to pull Ron out of his sordid life of punishment, then he need not ever tell his family the odd relationship that had struck up between him and his old professor. He’d find a way to deal with the hurt, the rejection and the lies and keep it to himself, and seal away that part of his life, for good.

 

_But if he wants me… then I…_

 

His mind listed all the difficulties their furthered contact would cause –explaining his sexuality, explaining how he and Severus had come to know one another, how they had come to sleep together…

 

He shook his head and turned off into the corridor where he thought he might strike gold. The investigation quarters of the Ministry were large and vast, and he ambled along the corridors looking at the plates next to the office doors. Some were open, some were closed, and some had humorous signs stuck on the wood.

 

Of course, he could have just asked any of his four family members that worked in the Ministry where the office he was looking for was located, but that would have meant admitting he was looking for Severus. His family had largely stuck to their word of leaving the past alone, but Ron knew they were just bursting to ask questions, and if he had told them he was going to speak with the man that had returned him to them, he felt sure their well restrained curiosity would finally have ruptured at the seams.

 

_And one day it will. Maybe one day you’ll tell them._

 

Ron knew that day wasn’t at any point in the near future, however, and he rounded the corner with his stomach squirming at the thought of how that particular conversation might play out. It hurt too much to even really consider, confessing to his family –his wholesome, loving family, that he had made a living for three years taking it up the arse, sucking cock and being a good little whore to a wide variety of male wizards.

 

_Oh, and that Italian vampire. He was pretty hot._

 

Ron thought about the mysterious man who had visited him a few times, and even fed from him lightly, sending him into a dizzy world of erotica previously unknown. But then the vampire had moved back to his homeland, and Ron had never seen him again. He had been kind and gentlemanly, a soft lover and overly sensual.

 

Thinking on it, the man reminded him of how Severus had grown to be through the course of his visits.

 

_Not the Severus you got at first, the shaking, whimpering Severus who nearly died when you stuck your finger up his arse…_

 

Ron had to double back then because his eyes alighted on the gold plaque outside an office with a closed door. He read the words again, checking to see that he had really found the right place in the maze of underground rooms.

 

He stared at the door, wondering what was in store for him behind it, not least because of Severus, but because of the fact that his older man worked with Draco Malfoy.

 

The news of his homecoming was slowly spreading, he knew, the newspapers tittering about the possibility. Once Kingsley scheduled the press conference they would burst into frenzy, Ron guessed. But he wasn’t sure if Malfoy would yet have heard of his return from the apparent dead.

 

_Even if this goes tits up with Sev, the look on that dickhead’s face will probably be worth the wasted trip…_

With a lopsided grin hitching up his lips, Ron extended his arm, the one with the sensory cuff dangling from it, and rapped his knuckles hard on the wood.

  
“Come in,” an imperious voice drawled and he fought hard not to roll his eyes.

 

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the handle and pushed the door open, keeping his head raised as he stepped over the threshold. His eyes fell on two empty desks, and then he turned to the figure sitting in the one behind the opened door.

 

The shock registered on Malfoy’s face and Ron was thrilled that the blonde did not disappoint him.

 

_His hair is longer, and his chin’s more defined…shite, Malfoy’s actually rather fit. When did that happen?_

“W-Weasley?” the question was a stammer and Malfoy jumped to his feet, painfully slamming his thighs into the edge of the desk in his haste.

“Yes, it’s me,” Ron confirmed pointlessly, and then he did something which knocked them both for six.

 

Ron extended his hand out for Draco to shake, where the shorter man stared at it as though it were a dragon-pox infested tissue. After a faltering second, though, ever the socialite, Draco pulled himself back together and reached out to give his hand a demure shake.

 

“I heard the rumours but I didn’t believe them,” he visibly swallowed. “I… well, what do you want in here?”

“I came to see Severus,” Ron turned and looked down at the empty desk, marked by Severus’ name. “But I see I’m unlucky.” Disappointment undulated through his bloodstream, threatening to drag him out into the sea of misery which he had been poised over for five years. “Do you know where he is?”

 

“If I did, why should I tell you?” Draco frowned, and Ron had to wonder if his voice was familiar to his old enemy.

 

It was certainly lower than it had been at school, with a rougher, more gravelly tone. Ron had known his worth as a whore by the fact he could bring most men down with a bat of his eyelashes and some seductively uttered words –a technique which, he was sure, would shame Severus to know he had completely submitted to.

 

_But then it’s not like you’ve not shivered and come from his own voice… that posh English drawl..._

“Is he at home? I’ll catch him there,” Ron turned to the door. He wanted to throw in a sarcastic comment about a towel, but he didn’t think that Severus would appreciate him joking about such a thing with his godson.

“Well, if he is there, he’s not answering the door,” Malfoy answered bitterly. “Or at least, not to me, anyway.”

“You’ve tried?” Ron asked, concern marring his face.

“Yes, at least twice, it’s not like him to take holiday… but he took a week and I’ve not heard anything.”

 

Ron recognised worry in the grey eyes and was almost alarmed by it, but then he realised he had never actually seen Malfoy worried for anything other than his own skin before. He had been too busy escaping Fiendfyre to notice any of his remorse during their last talkative interaction in the battle.

 

“Weasley…” Malfoy’s voice trailed off and Ron looked up at him questioningly. “Say the world ‘towels’ for me.”

 

_Oh, fuck._

“Towels,” Ron said and put his lips into a grimace with raised eyebrows.

 

Draco’s jaw fell again and his eyes gaped slightly, a little colour flooding into his alabaster cheeks. His eyes ran up and down Ron’s body, no doubt taking in the new stylish robes and the professional cut of his hair. Ron couldn’t help it that, with a force of habit he knew, he wondered what Malfoy thought of him.

 

“You… but you… Granger?” Draco spluttered without tact.

“What about her?” Ron heard his own voice harden and he pulled himself up to his full height so that he towered over Malfoy.

“Nothing,” Draco said softly, his eyes on Ron’s robes once more. “Nothing, I apologise, Weasley, I imagine those questions are the last thing you need at the moment.”

 

Taken aback at the blonde’s thoughtfulness, Ron didn’t know how to reply.

 

“We’ve all changed,” Draco informed him. “I’m not what I was at school. I don’t think you are, either, from the looks of you.”

 

Ron’s face flooded with colour at what he perceived to be an insult, and he instantly turned to leave the office.

 

“I didn’t mean financially,” Draco sighed. “I meant… you hold yourself differently.”

 

_Why on earth am I hanging around listening to this physical critique when Severus could be doing god knows what to himself? I’ll give that bastard hell, the bloody lecture he gave me about shutting myself away. Ooh, I’ll slap the stupid bugger-_

“What are you doing with him?” Draco asked shrewdly.

“I, uh… well. Not that it’s any of your business, but that was why I came to find him. We need to talk about things.”

“It is my business,” Draco’s face honed into the sort of glare Ron was used to seeing between a Malfoy and a Weasley. “He’s my godfather, and, though he’d never want me to admit it, a friend. So yes, he _is_ my business.”

 

The words were tinged with loyal harshness and Ron was shocked to find that they shot straight to his core.

 

_When was the last time that anybody snapped at you which wasn’t part of a power play resulting in a rough shag? Or wasn’t Severus?_

His breath caught in his throat and he was forced to swallow hard to keep his dignity in front of his old childhood nemesis.

 

“Right, um, of course. I get that… I’ll…”

“Merlin’s balls, Weasley,” Malfoy breathed, clearly in shock at Ron’s reaction to his words. “Don’t cry, for Godric’s sake.”

“I’m not crying,” Ron tilted his jaw upward. “I’m leaving.”

“If you need to win him round to something,” Malfoy called as he was halfway through the door, “Take him cheesecake. It always helps when he’s in a bad mood.”

 

Ron called back his acknowledgement. The cheesecake was, he admitted, a brilliant idea, knowing how much Severus enjoyed it. But to obtain one he would have to brave Diagon Alley alone for the first time, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to handle it.

 

 _No, I’m not ready for it._ There was no point wasting time over dithering on the matter, so Ron headed towards the atrium to the public Floos. A few people stared at him as he went, their heads turning, some people doing complete double takes as they recognised his hair, his face, realising that the youngest Weasley son and boy hero was walking amongst them once more.

 

Whispers followed and Ron forced himself to ignore them as he marched purposefully through the corridors, though his spine crept with sweat and his palms were clammy. He knew he had thrown himself in the deep end without a lifeline in terms of integrating back into wizarding society, but he didn’t know how else to do it.

 

His mother had told him that if he sat at home, thinking about it, he would only become afraid of it, and his father had agreed. His brothers, one by one, had pledged their support of instantaneous help whenever he felt the need, and he was grateful, though it would seem like a failure to call on them.

 

But as he tossed a few knuts in the donations box which revealed the stash of powder, he gritted his teeth and scooped some up, preparing to do christen their offered generosity. The flames turned green and he steadied his stomach, calling out the address of George’s shop.

 

“George?” He called, stepping instantly off the hearth so his new robes wouldn’t catch fire. “You busy?”

 

“Never too busy for you,” George stuck his head in the back room, his eyes greedily raking over Ron’s form, clearly still unable to believe that his youngest brother had returned. “What’s up?”

“I need a favour?” Ron implored him with wide eyes.

 

_Damn, Ron, you need to stop employing your whore tricks. They’re going to twig any day._

The first realisation he had had that he was using his art of seduction to get what he wanted was when he found himself leaning his body towards Charlie almost provocatively the second night he had been at The Burrow.

 

_And I wasn’t even fucking trying to get anything; I just wanted him to pass me the bloody tea towel!_

A slightly dirty tea towel really hadn’t warranted the full blast of ammunition that Ron had sent at his brother, and it had made his chest tighten as he wondered if any of them noticed his different actions.

 

“What do you want? You don’t have to bat your bloody eyelashes like that,” George disappeared back into the shop and missed Ron’s deep blush at his spot-on assessment.

“You know the bakery just up the way?”

“Uh-huh, the one that sells the best cream cakes in the world, you mean?”

“Yeah, that one,” Ron walked out onto the shop floor of Wheeze’s for the first time in nearly six years and found himself overwhelmed by the colour explosion. “I need you to go down there and get me a full sized cheesecake, a raspberry topped one, and bring it back here for me.”

 

“Er, why?” George laughed, running his hand through his hair.

“Just do it?” Ron asked enticingly.

“What’s in it for me?”

“You’ve not bloody changed, I see,” Ron muttered with a grin, and reached into his pocket for some money. “You can buy yourself a cream cake?”

“Like I’m not minted enough to buy my own,” George indicated his rather full till. “But sure, cream cake sounds good for the repayment of my heartfelt worry and fear for five years.”

 

George winked at Ron, took the money and passed him, walking to the door of the shop. He passed out without further comment, flipped the sign on the door to ‘out of my mind, back in five minutes’ and disappeared out of sight.

 

Ron exhaled, alone for the first time since he had woken up that morning, and buried his face in his hands.

 

“Oh, fuck, I can’t do this, I can’t do it… they all want to know… and when they find out… oh…”

 

His resolve was weakening and he forced himself to finger the silver encircling his wrist, making himself remember what it was there for –the promise he had given his family that he was sincere about remaining with them.

 

And Ron _did_ want to remain with them. He was surprised with the ease that his longing for punishment had abated, though he wasn’t fool enough to think it would never return. It was to that end he had let his mother accompany him to St. Mungo’s the day before to discuss healing treatments for depression and to discuss therapy on her tentatively posed suggestion.

 

_Won’t that be fun? ‘Tell us where you’ve been for five years, Ron’… ‘Probably fucking your second cousin and your brother…’_

He groaned and slumped against the counter, his fingers still smoothing over the bracelet on his wrist. Ron had never been a fan of blokes wearing jewellery, but he found himself miraculously at peace with the charmed metal.

 

_All I want is to go to his cottage and sink onto his stupidly comfortable sofa and hide my face in his shoulder. Is that pathetic?_

Thinking of Severus reminded him of what Draco had actually said –that he had taken holiday when he never normally did so. Worry made his skin tingle and he suddenly wished that George would return immediately so he could apparate off to the middle of the frozen Sussex countryside.

 

 _And what if he says no?_ Ron blinked at the wall and ran his fingers through his hair. _What if it was all just a calculated act to get you back home to mummy, away from the nasty brothel? If the kisses meant nothing, if the touches meant nothing, if the whispered names when he came were nothing…_

His grip on his hair became too tight for comfort and he instantly let go, knowing that if his heartbeat propelled any faster he was in danger of invoking the sensory magic on his arm, considering his less than savoury thoughts.

 

Ron closed his eyes and focussed on breathing in and out whilst he waited for his brother to return, making himself count inanely in his head to control his compunction to forgo the cheesecake bargaining tool and just run hell-for-leather for the cottage without a care for who he ran down on the way.

 

The bell tinkled above the shop door and he jerked out of his trance.

 

“You alright?” George asked softly, drawing level with him. “You weren’t that pale when I left.”  
“I… it’s hard,” Ron mumbled with a swallow, and held his hand out for the cheesecake box.

“I know,” George handed it to him, but instead of moving away, he flung an arm around Ron’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “I get it, Ron. I’ve not exactly been the life and soul of the party in your absence, either…”

“Leaving you behind was always my biggest regret,” Ron kept his eyes down on the box in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“You being here wouldn’t have brought him back,” George sighed. “I would have been cheerier, but still… I… nothing could have stopped the natural course of my grief. Hey, at least that’s what my therapist says.”

 

Ron snorted at his suddenly upbeat tone and cheesy thumbs-up.

 

“Who’s it for, Ron?” George smiled at him.

“Severus,” Ron answered without missing a beat, feeling that he owed George a little honesty after what he had just been given.

“And you’re buying him cheesecake why, exactly? A thank you gift? Bit unusual but hey, who doesn’t love a good dessert by way of gratitude?”

“He likes cheesecake,” Ron smiled sheepishly.  
“And you like him,” George replied in a slightly sing-song voice. Ron nearly dropped the box.

 

“W-What?”

“Oh, come on, little bro. The burning eyes and dramatic exit in the pub were a dead giveaway. Don’t worry, Bill and I haven’t told a dicky bird but still… don’t bother lying to us. We’ve pretty much guessed.”

 

“I…” Ron didn’t know what to say; he suddenly hoped that when he came face to face with Severus the words would flow easily –they had already failed him twice that day.

“Its fine,” George waved him off with a derisive sound. “You are what you are, as mum always says, right?”

“But he’s…”

“Snape, I know,” George gave a theatrical shiver. “But, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that crap, yeah?”

“Right,” Ron nodded, and stood up straight.

 

“Should we expect you home tonight?” George asked astutely, fixing Ron with a teasing stare. “You know, just don’t want the women to get the screaming abdabs thinking you’ve done another bunk.”

“I don’t know,” Ron flushed. “I’ll… I’ll send you a Patronus if I’m not coming home.”

“Hah, I’ll leave _you_ to explain that one to mum,” George laughed. “Get out of here and let me make love to this cream cake in private.”

 

_Oh, hell. I wonder what he’d say if he knew I’d had more whipped cream around my cock than I care to remember?_

“Well, don’t make a mess,” Ron smirked, and turned into the back room. “Can I apparate out?”

“Yeah, fancy wards because I’m fabulous,” George called.

 

_Yep, you really fucking are, George._

***

“Fuck off!” Severus growled at the thumping he could hear on his front door, and buried his head further under the pillow.

 

Whoever was at the door had refused to give up for the past ten minutes and he was sure that their fist must have been bloody by that point.

 

_And it would serve them fucking right! FUCK OFF!_

Through the fibres of the pillow he heard a muffled shout which might have been his name and he tensed, listening for the call again. It didn’t come, but what did was the sharp snapping of something bouncing off the window.

 

“Oh, this is just absolutely ridiculous,” Severus threw off the duvet and flew to his feet, a blood rush assaulting his head.

 

However, Severus didn’t make it to the window before there was sharp crack followed by the immediate sound of shattering glass, and the cold breeze from outside blew the curtain inward as his window pane entered the great deceased beyond.

 

“WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYING AT?!” Severus bellowed, yanking back the curtains and stepping carefully around the shattered glass which had bounced off the wide windowsill onto the carpet.

 

His angry words died in his throat when he looked down into his front garden and saw Ron standing there, looking horrendously guilty, dressed in fine blue wizarding robes and holding a familiar looking box.

 

Severus simply stared down at him in shock and couldn’t make his body move. Ron stared up with equally wide eyes. But he, however, was the first to recover the power of speech.

  
“I didn’t mean to break your window,” he offered croakily. “But you wouldn’t answer the door.”

“I’m clearly an imbecile,” Severus choked, and the words forced the life back into his limbs.

 

He tore out of the bedroom, hoiking up the loose bottoms he was wearing, and flew down the stairs, taking them two at a time, his hand barely gracing the banister. His fingers fumbled with the lock of the front door, either through their stiffness or it’s own, and when he finally flung the door open he smashed it into his knee in his haste.

 

“Ow, shit, fucking hell,” he gasped, hopping slightly on his one good leg and braced his hand on the doorframe.

“Bad time?” Ron raised an eyebrow.

 

They looked at each other for a split second before the cheesecake box landed with a thud on the floor and they reached with grabbing hands for equally thin bodies. Ron made it first, his arms wrapping tightly around Severus’ torso and forcing his arms to his body, as large hands firmly gripped his back.

 

It was only a second longer before they were kissing, a kiss that Ron thoroughly dominated, his tongue licking with purposeful thrusts, moaning his worship straight into Severus’ mouth. Severus wanted to fight, he wanted to force his way out of the tight grip and lay his own claim on their reunion, but he found himself limp in Ron’s arms, letting his suddenly merry breath be snatched straight from the source.

 

Ron continued to pour adoration into his mouth and Severus forgot everything –the broken window, the dropped cheesecake, the way they were on his front doorstep, the way he stank of sweat and the way his hair flopped with greasy lankness... He let the hands massage his back and simply absorbed himself into the kiss.

 

Finally forced to draw back to gasp in some air, Ron moved only a fraction, and his lips were parted as he looked into Severus’ eyes.

“I dropped the cheesecake,” he groaned, eyes closing with regret.

“We’ll eat it out of the box,” Severus murmured, and took his chance to snatch a light but meaningful kiss from the redhead. “Lick it out, if we have to.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Ron smiled, and then stepped back properly, stooping to pick up the box.

 

Severus moved back into the house, suddenly ashamed at the state of it. All the curtains were drawn, the air heavy for lack of ventilation, the fire was dead, there were clothes draped over the back of the sofa and empty bottles and dirty glasses on the coffee table. Books and magazines were out of place and the sink was full of washing up yet to be completed in the kitchen.

 

Ron stepped over the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him. His eyes alighted on the mess and then he turned. Severus closed his eyes in shame and lowered his head.

 

“Hypocrite,” Ron sighed, and Severus heard his footsteps into the kitchen, and his swift ‘fucking hell’ at the extent of the mess.

 

Severus didn’t feel he could do anything more than arrange his face into an apologetic look and wait for Ron to return, so that was what he did. When the redhead rounded out of the kitchen, he was stood waiting with one arm across his chest, hand holding onto his marked arm.

 

“Sev, all those times you gave _me_ lectures about looking after myself,” Ron stepped close and brushed back his hair. “And the first chance you get, you’re holing yourself up and letting everything go to shit?”

“I was…” _Depressed? Lonely? Lost?_ “Wallowing.”

“Good old wallowing,” Ron said softly, raising his fingertips to dabble lightly in Severus’ chest hair. The hand then flattened completely against his breastbone. “I wanted to come sooner, but I thought we… I thought we would both need time to think.”

“I’ve thought entirely too much and not nearly enough,” Severus sighed.

 

“You’re surprised I came,” Ron stated, raising his eyes to look into Severus’ again.

“I am,” Severus confessed. “I hoped that you would, but I…”

“Your pessimistic mind wouldn’t let you believe that I actually would,” Ron finished for him. “Why on earth would I, a young, lithe man, come back to an old, bitter husk of a man with nothing to offer and no love of any worth to give?”

 

Severus blinked, well aware of the care Ron had forced into his tone to show that those were not his own thoughts, merely his impression of Severus’ own. He was hard pressed to deny that they were startlingly accurate. He nodded pathetically.

 

“Well, Severus, I’ll tell you why I came,” Ron reached the fingers up further to rest over Severus’ thin lips. “Because all I’ve wanted to do since you left, was to find you again.”

“I wanted to be found,” Severus whispered quietly.

“I’m glad,” Ron moved the fraction closer which caused their bodies to touch completely. “I missed you, Sev, I missed you like hell.”

 

Wrapped in the redhead’s embrace again, Severus knew he had to force his will to wrap his own arms around the thin body. It was his time to step forward and fight, as Ron had done by coming to him.

 

“I don’t take to my bed in a fit of despair for just anybody,” he muttered into Ron’s ear, and kissed it gently.

“Oh, your wonderful way with words,” Ron snorted. “‘I missed you too’ would have sufficed.”

“And then I would not have been myself,” Severus closed his eyes and buried his face in Ron’s hair, inhaling the heady rose and vanilla scent as much as he could.

“I love the way you do that,” Ron blurted awkwardly. “I love the way you smell me like I’m some sort of flower. Like you can’t get enough of me.”

“That poem’s gone to your head, hasn’t it?” Severus gripped a little tighter. “Sent you all bloody limp lettuce?”

“ _You_ were the one that wrote it down,” Ron reminded him with a cheeky pinch of his backside. “So don’t start on me about being slushy.”

“Did you like it?” Severus couldn’t help but ask.  
“Godric’s balls, it was the most depressing thing I think I’ve ever read,” Ron breathed.

“Good, I felt the same way. It was meant to give you a good kick up the arse.”

“Did it do that for you?” Ron asked shrewdly.

“Well, not in the direct sense but it did help me with you, so, I suppose yes, in the long run, I should consider my backside kicked. It would be fitting to thank Albus Dumbledore’s love of old Irish love poetry, I suppose…”

 

They were stood wrapped around one another in the hallway of the house and Severus didn’t dare to presume about Ron, but he felt that he could stay there in the redhead’s arms forever.

 

“God, I’m sorry, I’m a wreck,” he muttered when he caught a whiff of his own stench.  
“Well, you don’t smell of roses, that’s for sure,” Ron laughed, and stroked a gentle path up Severus’ spine, making him shiver. “But I don’t care.”

“Well, I bloody do,” Severus said loudly.

 

He abruptly pulled back out of Ron’s embrace and held him at arm’s length, his hands clasped firmly over the curves of the redhead’s shoulders.

 

“I will feel much better if I’m facing this like my normal self,” Severus told him firmly. “Do you have anywhere you need to be, or have I got the time to wash away the proof of my idiocy with the promise you’ll still be here when I walk back down those stairs?”

 

Ron snorted and reached up a hand to smooth over Severus’ stubble. “I’ve nowhere else to be, Severus.”

“Good,” Severus turned his head and kissed the hand on his face, and made to pull away, but Ron grabbed his arm.

“Severus, the last few days… I’ve had to promise everybody something. I… now I need a promise from you.”

“What do you mean?” Severus felt the blush in his cheeks.

“I need you to promise me that when you’ve showered, you’re not going to push me out of the front door and tell me never to come back?” Ron’s voice was filled with almost hollow hope which made Severus’ heart thump. “Because I won’t wait, if that’s all you want to say to me…”

 

He found that he had no problem in granting Ron what he wanted. “I promise you,” he gave a gentle nod to seal the pledge.

 

Ron released his arm with the smallest of smiles, and then watched him up the stairs.

 

Severus ducked into the bathroom and reached for the shower over his bath, turning it on and letting the water heat up. Shoving the loose cotton bottoms down to the floor he kicked them up and caught them, sending them flying into the washing bin.

 

He tried desperately hard to keep his mind clear and focussed as he washed his hair, lathered his body and let the hot water carry away the evidence of the last three days of dejection. All he had spent those three days doing was hoping that Ron would come back to him, and now it was time to discern what on earth they would say now that he had.

 

With a final scrub of his face Severus turned off the water and dried himself so fast he was sure that he probably missed most of the droplets quivering on his body. The little room had become heavy with steam and he reached for the window, pushing it wide open to let in the freezing January air. He could hear a soft whistle from the lower level of the house and smiled to himself.

 

_God, he looks fucking wonderful in those robes._

 

Severus viciously brushed his teeth, wondering if it was just his imagination that Ron’s face already looked a little fuller. Spitting in the sink he dropped his brush back in the holder and made to turn away, but then he saw something which made his heart stop and accelerate all at once.

 

The mirror had steamed up due to his hot shower, but on the fogged glass there was a very clearly written message, a precise finger having dragged through to leave it.

 

_‘Don’t push him away.’_

 

“Oh, come on,” Severus rolled his eyes, and held his breath. “Mirror messages?”

 

Severus watched in fascination as another message trailed out in the steam.

  
‘ _Maybe if you weren’t so mentally challenged on the subject of ghosts, I wouldn’t have to resort to mirror messages.’_

“I bet you’re dancing with glee, Potter, able to insult me when I can do nothing to hurt you. Would exorcism work, I wonder?”

 

‘ _Fuck no, Snape. Now. Don’t push him away.’_

“Or else?” Severus raised an eyebrow, rather amused. “You’ll haunt me until the day I die, something like that?”

 

_‘I wouldn’t waste my time.’_

Something in the atmosphere changed then and Severus knew if he spoke again his question wouldn’t be answered. With a shaking hand he wiped the messages off the mirror and his pale face came back into view, his dark hair clinging to his head. He looked down at his naked body and realised that a spiritual Harry Potter had just seen everything there was to see of his thin frame.

 

_Wonderful, just wonderful._

He crossed the tiny landing to the bedroom and reached for his wand, drying his hair with careless haste, one hand searching for clothes in his wardrobe.

 

Finally dressed, Severus took a deep breath at the top of the stairs and paused, wondering just what exactly waited for him at the bottom of them. He descended the old rickety steps and looked around for Ron.

 

“Oh, did you have to tidy up? You’ve just made me feel unbelievably slovenly,” Severus groaned, seeing the way that Ron had cleared the coffee table, folded the clothes, lit the fire, thrown open all the windows, done a quick cleaning charm and set a broom to sweeping the floor.

 

Walking into the kitchen only found the redhead next to the now-empty sink and cleaned surfaces waiting for the kettle to boil, with two mugs ready for tea, and the ruined cheesecake on the side with two spoons. The cat was scoffing a bowl of food on the floor.

 

“Thank you,” Severus said, lowering his voice to a softer tone as he wrapped his arms around Ron from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder.

 

Something told him that he should not mention the mirror messages to Ron, and he simply stayed quiet as the man made tea still wrapped in his embrace. His eyes were caught by the silver bangle on Ron’s thin right wrist and he reached out and grabbed it, lifting it up so that he could inspect.

 

“Explain,” he said immediately, not releasing the limb.

“It was my idea,” Ron said quietly. “They all keep looking at me like I might disappear into a cloud of smoke, as they have every right to. I thought this might be a good way of setting them at ease. It’s charmed to chart how I feel, if I get too upset then the right people are alerted. Also has a tracker spell on it and if they need to find me quickly, then it can be activated by spell into a portkey straight to the hospital.”

“Clever,” Severus surmised, fixing his eyes on it. “But not exactly the actions I expected from a man who not five days ago wanted to murder himself?”

 

Ron gently moved a teaspoon around one of the cups, clearly thinking on how he should answer that.

  
“Well, no. But then I’m not the same person as I was five days ago,” he finally murmured.

“How so?” Severus tightened his grip, ever-so-slightly, and leaned a little closer for the answer.

“Five days I ago I wasn’t dosed up to the eyeballs on anti-depression potions or being force-fed sleeping draughts by my mother,” Ron’s mouth was a lopsided smile. “Nor was I under the watch of my family again,” he waved his wrist. “And nor had I willingly submitted myself to the mercy of the St. Mungo’s mental health wards.”

 

Severus couldn’t deny that he was thrilled to hear that news, but there was something eating away at him that he had to voice. “But why, Ron? You… you told me you would never seek that help.”

“Well, I wasn’t counting on somebody throwing me back to my family,” Ron spoke with a little edge to his tone. “I didn’t think anybody would care enough to make the step that I wouldn’t force myself to take.”

 

“And then someone did…” Severus pressed forward, unsure whether he should be worried by Ron’s refusal to name his part in the last few days.

“And now I have my mother breathing down my neck, commenting on how thin I am, how pale I look, how my clothes hang off me…” Ron squeezed the teabag against the side of the cup and placed it on the little saucer to the side. “So, for her, and for the rest of them, and _you_ , I’ll do it.”

“Not for yourself?” Severus sighed sadly.

“Not yet,” Ron admitted.

“But maybe one day?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ron nodded, and finished with the other cup.

 

_And like Albus said to me, Ron, for you, that’s a pleasant enough start._

 

Ron turned around in Severus’ arms and hugged him. Severus accepted a soft kiss with good grace and enjoyed it, taking comfort in the warm body resting against his own.

 

“Gods, I really did miss you,” he breathed, his eyes closed. Resting his forehead against Ron’s, Severus couldn’t help another deep inhalation of his scent.

 

He was shocked when he heard Ron make the same move, and felt the air sucked from his skin. The tiny shudder which followed the action made him almost melt.

 

“Well, I’m not going to lie and say that washed Severus isn’t far preferable to unwashed Severus,” Ron gave a cheeky laugh. “Glad you left the stubble, too.”

“Oh…” Severus realised he had completely forgotten to shave. “I forgot that.”  
“Leave it,” Ron begged in a whisper, and kissed him again.

“For now,” Severus indulged him. “Later it goes.”

“I can live with that,” Ron murmured against Severus’ lips, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin.

 

They stood there in their not-quite-kiss for over a minute, simply searching the other’s eyes for the answers to questions that they didn’t feel brave enough to broach. Severus suddenly became impatient with the indecision and fully claimed Ron’s lips for his own, swiping his tongue against them and demanding entry. Ron granted it and clutched at his waist tighter, sending sparks of crackling energy up and down Severus’ spine.

 

Groaning, he pulled back, feeling twitching in his underwear. Both of them had to remain decidedly un-stirred if they wanted to resolve anything.

 

_Of course, you want the resolution to involve you being completely hard, but that’s another matter…_

Severus reached around Ron and grabbed his tea, walking to the sofa without another word. Ron followed and perched somewhat awkwardly on the opposite end, but their separation felt far too chaste after everything they had done together.

 

“This is daft,” Ron declared, reaching forward and setting his tea mug on the table. He lowered his hands and unlaced his boots, toeing them off onto the rug.

 

Severus welcomingly lifted his arm and waited with growing anticipation as Ron arranged himself alongside him, so close that he might as well have been sitting in his lap. Long legs swathed in expensive fabric bent over his thighs and socked feet dipped down in the gap between Severus and the arm of the chair. Strong arms wrapped around him as Ron nuzzled against his shoulder.

 

“Quite done fidgeting yet? You’re worse than the bloody cat,” Severus snarked, taking a mouthful of tea and trying to ignore how having Ron draped around him so intimately made his crotch take note all over again.

“Well, you’ve always said that my stretches sounded like one,” Ron pointed out. “Who knows, in a past life, maybe I was feline?”

 

Severus snorted and levitated his mug to the coffee table so that he could hold onto Ron with a stronger grip. Silence descended around them again and Severus got the distinct impression that they were both waiting for the other to speak. The absurd thing was that he had no idea what he wanted Ron to say.

 

“Severus…” the redhead began, and stopped again.

“This is ridiculous,” Severus breathed. “We’re grown men.”

“Grown _emotionally stunted_ men,” Ron pointed out, as though it might help.  
“Well, that’s true,” Severus conceded with a tilt of his head. “But still… I imagine you have questions?”

 

“Oh, hundreds,” Ron snorted. “Probably not even the right questions, I’m sure.”

“Well… start and we’ll see,” Severus said apprehensively.

“Okay,” Ron murmured, lowering his eyes. “When did you know that you were going to contact my family?”

“The day I did it,” Severus answered, hoping that his earnestness was apparent. “Before then I had no real inclination to contact them, I only enjoyed my time with you.”

 

He heard the soft gush of exhaled air and forced himself to look into Ron’s face.

 

“I thought that maybe… well, I thought that maybe you only ever came to me to get me to trust you, after the first time, so that you could get me home again,” Ron lowered his eyes. “I didn’t know if you _really_ wanted me…so I left you alone for three days, breathing room… time to think, I guess… but then…well… I got impatient.”

“I appreciate your consideration,” Severus swallowed. “But I don’t really see that I have anything to think about. I don’t think I ever did.”

 

Ron looked at him questioningly.

  
“Well, the first night that we saw one another,” Severus began tentatively. “It was… you remember my nerves, how unwilling I was in the bedroom? The things you had done to me combined with the pity I felt for you had me instantly ensnared. I knew I would come back to you again. I guarded that card you gave me with my life, even though there was no possible harm that could have come to it.”

 

Ron fidgeted and played with his sensory cuff, chewing on his lip.

 

“And then from there everything took off, I simply wanted more of you.”

“But now you don’t?” Ron’s voice wavered.

“Why would you assume that?” Severus sighed.

“Because you sent me back to them,” Ron pointed out. “Is it that you didn’t want to deal with my problems any more, Severus? Was that it?” His voice rose with fretfulness.

“No, that wasn’t it-”

“Or was it that you were scared of what you were starting to feel for me?”

 

“I will not deny that my fear of those feelings led me to go and see Albus’ portrait for the first time in years,” Severus told him honestly. “I did not know how to handle the situation, and he assured me that returning you to your family was the best way. He seemed to think that you were inadvertently asking me for my help to make the jump, and that I should provide it, even if you did not know you were asking.”

 

“And what about your feelings?” Ron’s voice trembled slightly and still he did not look up, which Severus felt grateful for.

 

“I would be a coward if I did not confess that I am still completely terrified of what I might come to feel for you,” Severus kept the words soft so that he could convince himself of his strength. “Or of what the future would hold if we…”

“If we what?” Ron looked up then, his sapphire eyes piercing straight into Severus’.

 

“If we do what we _both_ want to do,” Severus looked dead back at him, forcing himself to take the upper hand and raise the possibility first, “and turn this into more than just a selection of heated fucks and sporadic soul healing.”

 

Severus let out a little shocked mumble when Ron grabbed his face and kissed him, hard, knocking their teeth together as they met. When his surprise faded, however, Severus raised his hands and sunk his fingers into Ron’s soft hair.

 

“You are _so_ stunning,” he muttered, not even bothering to blush at what he would usually consider outlandish praise.

“Really?” Ron breathed. “Do you really think that, Severus?”

 

Severus blinked at him in confusion. “Of course. Why would I have said it if I did not believe it? Have you ever known me to mince my words, Ron?”

 

“No,” Ron said fairly. “But I need to know, Severus… that you want me for me, and not me as a whore. Because whilst I can keep what I learnt and I can sling my hips from side to side and bat my eyelashes and smile seductively and give an amazing fucking blowjob,” Ron’s voice became breathless as he rattled off the list of whorish attributes, “I need to know that it’s _me_ that you want. And not the whore.”

 

Not wanting to hurt the man with foolish hesitation, Severus stumbled for the right words. He didn’t find any, so he simply leaned forward and captured Ron’s lips again, holding his head in place with spread fingers cupping the base of his skull.

 

He pulled back when he found something to say. “It would be wholly you, Ron. You, the man who warms up the bed in two minutes flat, you, who makes one of the best fucking cups of tea in the world, you, who can make even a putrid cigarette look enticing…”

 

Ron’s face flushed with pleasure and he lowered it slightly to hide his reaction to the praise, but Severus grabbed hold of his chin and tilted it upward. It wasn’t a graceful move by any means and Ron suddenly burst out laughing at the way his face was awkwardly shoved skyward.

 

Severus laughed and dropped it, shaking his head and causing his freshly washed hair to bounce around his face. He frowned when Ron groaned but then realised why. The redhead leant forward and pressed his nose hard into the hair, and inhaled.

  
“Fuck, you smell so good,” he gasped, sucking in another deep drag. “Tea, you smell of tea and that’s all I’ve been able to fucking think of for three days. I think my family were starting to think there was more than just grief and depression wrong with me, I kept sniffing the fucking tea caddy.”

“Really?” Severus raised a teasing eyebrow.

“Yes. I’m sure that it’s a more than coincidence that the primary brew of choice in our house, and always has been, mind –is English Breakfast, and that’s totally what you smell of.”

“I find it odd that you can make the distinction,” Severus admitted. “Tea is tea when you’re gasping for it.”

“No, all teas smell different; you’re a bloody Potioneer, for Merlin’s sake…” Ron shook his head disbelievingly. “And English Breakfast packs the right punch in the morning…”

“Come on, hit me with some god-awful pun that for _you_ I pack the right punch at _any_ time of the day,” Severus smirked expectantly.

 

“I would,” Ron sighed. “But you just blew my punch line.”

 

Severus snorted as Ron kissed into his hair and left his face there.

 

“Severus,” the name was a mutter against his head and he grunted his response. “Are you really saying that this is… that we…”

 

“If you are sure that this is what you want,” Severus answered carefully. “I am well aware, Ron, that I represent the last dregs of what you were.”

“Are we back to the tea again?” Ron smiled gently and pulled back. “You were never the dregs, Severus. Never. You were the second gulp.”

“Second?”

“The first is just the immediate relief,” Ron rolled his eyes. “It’s always the second mouthful, when the flavour gets around your tongue, when you really take comfort from it… that’s always the best, and that’s what you were. And if I can carry you with me out of that hell then I’m glad.”

 

“I thought we’d covered this before,” Severus looked up at him sheepishly. “Nobody carries me anywhere.”  
“I thought that was just when pissed?”

“No no, it applies to the sober as well.”

“Shame,” Ron winked. “Because I’m not the only one who’s going to be hauled over the coals in the next few months. I would have thought you might have appreciated a lift off them every now and then…”

 

“Where on earth are you getting all these sodding analogies from?” Severus dissolved into chortling laughter.

“Fine, get burnt,” Ron replied wickedly, and his eyes twinkled as he leant in for another kiss, which Severus eagerly took, enjoying the way their tongues batted against one another with a splash more fire than they had hitherto produced.

 

The heat eventually dwindled but they stayed close. Severus wondered if Ron felt as relieved as he did to simply be _near_ him again.

 

_But it’s not even full relief, far too many questions to be asked…_

To that end, Severus decided to plough ahead. “How were your family? What have you told them?”

“They were shocked,” Ron sighed, and leant back slightly. “As expected, really. Ginny is… she goes through fits of shunning me, forgets herself and then goes back to not talking again. She left for a week’s training in Wales today, so hopefully when she comes back she might feel a bit more accommodating.”

 

“How did she fare after Potter’s death?” Severus had to ask.

“Well, from what I can tell, she had her months off the rails and then just… got on with it.”

“Maybe we should study and take notes?” Severus suggested bleakly.

Ron laughed, “Probably. She’s seeing someone now, and seems happy. I’m pleased for her.”

“Not met him yet then?”

“No, God… meeting my bloody nieces was bad enough!”

“You have nieces?” Severus asked, not knowing why he was surprised –the Weasley clan had always been vast, and the younger generation were bound to reproduce as they grew older.

“Yeah, Bill and Fleur’s,” Ron shot him a grin. “Two little girls, Victoire and Dominique… like little miniature Fleur Delacours with Weasley hair, it’s bloody weird! And Remus’ boy, Teddy…”

“What about the others?”

 

Where Severus’ curiosity was coming from, he wasn’t quite sure, but he knew he should start as he meant to go on. If he wanted Ron in his life, he felt he should at least acquaint himself to the inner workings of his family tree.

 

“Charlie still unattached, much to mum’s annoyance,” Ron snorted.

“Do they know about his sexuality?”

“Not sure,” Ron shrugged. “I guess I’ll talk to him at some point. Percy’s married, a witch so utterly different to him it’s unbelievable… she’s so laid back, carefree… he’s completely in love with her.”  
“Opposites attract,” Severus reminded him.

“Hmm,” Ron fixed him with a pointed look. “I suppose that they do, yeah.”

“George?”

“Alone, thin, obviously very hurt but getting there,” Ron swallowed. “The other day mum threw her arms around me and said that even in three days the changes in him had been huge… so I guess my going back did some good for him.”

 

“And for yourself, too,” Severus indicated a hand at his robes. “And you look healthier.”

“Because the woman is a food-shovelling machine,” Ron muttered. “But if I won’t give them details on the past, I can at least eat their food, take their potions and keep them happy…”

 

“So you chose to hold it back, then,” Severus leant his head on the back of the sofa.

“I took your advice,” Ron smiled at him. “Aren’t you pleased?”

“If I were of that sort of inclination I would get up and do a dance,” Severus assured him. “Luckily for you, I am not, so I will sit here and smile smugly, hoping my joy radiates far and wide that way.”

 

Ron laughed and threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling of the cottage.

 

“It didn’t feel real,” he whispered. “It felt like I was floating along, tied down by my family. But it’s you, Severus, you’re making it real; you’re holding me onto the ground. They’re the rope, you’re the peg in the earth.”

 

“Enough,” Severus huffed. “Stop with the damned euphemisms, Weasley, and give me another one of those blasted kisses that you’re so talented at.”

 

Ron complied with a smile on his lips and tilted his head to the side for better access, his tongue reaching deeper within Severus’ mouth. Groaning, Severus let him lick and suck, and didn’t bother to fight to rein in his body’s reactions. He had one last thing to say.

 

“Ron,” he murmured, leaning forward for one last tacking kiss before pulling away.

“Mm?” Ron’s eyelids were half closed with barely cloaked lust. Severus could see his erection through his robes and fought hard to ignore it and the wonder spreading through his body that he had evoked such a sight.

 

“Your inner whore,” Severus lowered his eyes. “Will he be disappearing forever, do we think?”

Ron jerked his hair out of his eyes and fixed Severus with a cool stare. “Why?”

“Well… I just feel that you… everything that has happened to you in the past five years has brought you to this point, and what’s more, it has brought _me_ here, too. I don’t think that you will ever successfully extinguish it from your being. And to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think you should.”

“I flirted with my brother for a tea towel,” Ron confessed, shame creeping into his cheeks. “You’re one hundred percent right, Severus,” he breathed.

 

“Well, I’m just suggesting that you… if you need an outlet for him, if you need an outlet for the things you know through experience and need to set aside in your day to day life… I’m here, but you know with confidence that that side of your personality is not _all_ that I desire of you...”

 

Ron looked at him again, eyes penetrating right through to Severus’ soul. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Severus shook his head minutely, and then progressed to what he had wanted to say ever since Ron had crossed his threshold. “Fuck me instead.”

 

Ron threw himself off the sofa and yanked Severus up with him, nearly dislodging the mug on the edge of the table as he passed. Severus went willingly, letting his body careen into the wall as Ron shoved it there, and moaned throatily when a leg slid up in between his thighs and hands ghosted over his hips.

 

They both vocally appreciated when Ron rocked his hips forward and crushed their covered erections together, something Severus instantly found himself wanting to remedy. His fingers were clumsier than he could ever remember them being as they set about working on Ron’s robes and he sighed in relief when the redhead pulled back and batted his hand away.

 

“This is fucking amazing,” Ron assured him, and Severus watched as his index finger reached to the high collar of the neck of the robes, gave a quick tug and then all of the material latches came undone in a sharp snap.

 

Severus didn’t pause to comment on the wonders of wizarding fashion; he merely shoved the robe off Ron’s shoulders and unbuttoned the jeans he was wearing beneath them. Intermingled gasps and moans rent the air whilst they kissed, slowly becoming more and more naked as they staggered up the stairs. Severus wasn’t particularly sure that they were even going to make it to the bed.

 

_And the question is, do I really want to?_

“Accio lubricant,” he muttered, flinging out his hand to catch the jar as it hurtled out of the bedroom and smacked into his palm.

“Here?” Ron gasped, his back against the wall of the stairs.

“Anywhere,” Severus grunted and kicked away his trousers and underwear, his undone shirt flapping around the thin frame of his torso.

 

Ron snatched the jar of lube off him and threw lid with a clatter down the stairs, scooping out a globful and without warning dumped the cold substance on Severus’ cock. Instantly smoothing the liquid out over every ridge and bump he could find, he masterfully worked it to full hardness with a lustful smile on his face, causing Severus’ breath to catch with the intensity of his stare.

 

“It feels so good to know that’s the only cock I’ll ever see, other than my own, again,” Ron murmured, his fingers slowing to a heartfelt caress, and they slid beneath to Severus’ balls.

“Really?” Severus shivered, the words and the touch working together to wrack his body with pleasure.  
“Of course,” Ron frowned, his pupils dilated with lust.

“No, I mean really, the only one…”

“Oh,” Ron flushed at what he had said and bit down hard into his lip.

“It’s… it’s… not important now,” Severus shook his head, forcing the words out and snatched the jar back, taking his own fingerful. “On your knees.”

 

Ron sank fluidly down without removing his clothes the rest of the way. His knees were trapped in his trousers; his robes were bunched around his waist, top half completely bare.

 

Severus trailed a finger down between his buttocks and pressed into him without fanfare, working his finger into the blazing confines.

 

“Moan for me,” he commanded, carried away by the fact that they were about to fuck on the stairs of his house, in full view of the front door.

 

_And that is the benefit to being a miserable fucking bastard –that door won’t open, nobody gives a fuck other than the man in front of me **right** now._

He slid a second finger inward and trembled again when Ron moaned in pleasure, thrusting his backside down on the digits in his body.

 

“Yesss, Severus, more,” he murmured, his fingers scrabbling on the stair that he was holding onto. “More, _please_ …”

 

Severus gave him what he wanted and worked the three fingers inward, before sliding out and beginning to pump them back and forth. The redhead began to mewl under the pressure slamming into his prostate and Severus reached down to fist his own cock in his free hand, biting back his vocal accompaniments.

 

“Oh, gods,” the whimper was high pitched. “Want you _now._ ”

 

Unable to help his speed, Severus yanked his fingers free and positioned himself, gripping onto Ron’s hips tightly. His knees ached on the hard wood of the stairs and his sweating body stung in the cold air, but it all evaporated as he plunged into the heat of Ron’s arse and he groaned out the name of his lover to the house.

 

“Unnngh fuck it, say my name like that again, say it…” Ron threw his head back.

 

Severus didn’t comply, but leant forward and kissed a hot wet path up Ron’s spine, moaning as he did so, distracting Ron from the fact that his hips were picking up pace. When Severus levelled off into a punishing speed, making the skin of their thighs slap together indecently, Ron shuddered and yelped in time to the beat, thrusting backwards, his shaking arms barely managing to support him.

 

Lodged deep, Severus moaned with bitter regret that he was about to come, wanting to drag out the sex for as long as he possibly could.

 

“Just fuck me and fill me with your come,” Ron hissed over his shoulder. “You know it’s what you want, Severus, just fucking claim me… stop pissing around and take what you want, take what you deserve…”

 

Severus reached forward, trying his best to ignore the difficulty of their positioning, grabbed hold of Ron’s erection batting somewhat painfully against the rim of the stairs, and pumped it rapidly. He had to slow down to manage his next move, but he manoeuvred to place his lips next to Ron’s ear, his belly flatted over the redhead’s scarred back. He licked the shell and whispered, “I’ll take what I want, you can be sure of that, Weasley…” He sucked on a soft earlobe, taking a deep draw of intoxicating rose and vanilla once again as his tongue ravished the silky skin. “But only if you get what you deserve at the same time.”

 

“And what’s that?” Ron whimpered, pushing back onto Severus’ cock and then canting his hips forward into his hand.

 

Severus let him repeat his pleasure a few times more before he spoke again, enjoying the way Ron’s supple body grew tenser with every hip-swinging push and pull movement, and the way the orgasm built so obviously in his torn breathing.

 

“You deserve to come _every.single.fucking.time_ ,” Severus hissed in his ear, making sure his hot breath blew directly into the canal. “ _Every_ time, Ron…” he set his fingers to manipulate Ron’s foreskin and slowed his hips to a deep rocking motion to accompany the short, staccato movements he worked into the cock.

 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come…” Ron choked, knuckles whitening with increased grip.

 

Severus wrapped his free arm around the redhead’s pelvis, locking him into place. Keeping up the rocking motion and gentle but pointed fondling, he licked down Ron’s neck. Kisses replaced his tongue on the ascent and he nibbled at the spot just below his ear, not quite neck and not quite throat, before clamping his mouth down on the no-man’s-land flesh and sucking.

 

The body beneath him gave way and Ron cried out as his cock began to spasm. Severus held him firmly in place and when the redhead tried to dislodge him by clamping down his inner muscles around the older man’s leaking cock, he hissed with desire.

 

“Fill me,” Ron’s words hit the walls and Severus wasn’t surprised that they completely unravelled him.

 

His hips jerked and come spurted from his body with deep pulls from his stomach. Instantly beginning to quiver, he held on to Ron even more possessively and growled and hissed as sated relaxation began to wash through his body from his dick outwards.

 

“You really mean this?” Ron’s voice suddenly wobbled significantly as his pained question burst out, and his head lowered to look at the stairs, hair sticking to his sweaty skin. “You mean it? You want me? I’m not just a fuck to you?”

 

Severus covered the redhead’s back with his body and leant to his ear again, hoping that his voice was strong enough. “Ron, I don’t think you were _ever_ just a fuck.” He pressed a kiss to his creamy shoulder, resting his head lightly against the back of Ron’s.

 

“I don’t think you were ever _just_ a client, either,” the words were a whisper, but they hit into Severus’ conscious as though they had been bellowed through a loudspeaker.

 

 

 

Ron turned in Severus’ arms, his legs tangling in his clothes and his head cracking painfully against one of the stairs, but he barely noticed as he wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck and kissed him, bumping their noses together.

 

“In all my years fucking wizards,” Ron whispered. “I’ve never done it on the stairs.”

 

Severus snorted and blushed. “I couldn’t _quite_ control myself to formulate the extra effort to get into the boudoir.”

 

Ron smirked, looked up from beneath his damp fringe, and whispered provocatively, “Lose control more often, Sev...”

 

“Do you need a promise on that?” Severus quirked an eyebrow and kissed him.

 

Ron drew in a few shaky breaths when Severus released him, and shook his head.


	8. Chapter 8

Severus looked at himself in the mirror as he dressed, slim fingers working effortlessly over the buttons of his black formal robes, his eyes never leaving the imposing figure he cut in the looking glass.

 

His face was pale, his hair straight, washed and long, flattening against his shoulders as they moved to do up the many clasps. He tugged on his cuffs, straightening the shirtsleeves beneath his robes, and broadened his chest slightly.

 

_Well, I’ve seen worse. It’ll have to do._

 

Looking at his narrow features made Severus think of overt thinness, and that took his mind to Ron, the way he had looked starved when they had first met.

 

_How things changed in a year._

Sighing, Severus took a step back from the mirror and turned, casting a wary eye over his back and buttocks, checking that his robes cascaded as they should all the way down to the carpet.

 

And then he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his face in his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his closed eyes. Signature black was what his duties of the day called for, he was lucky he could work it.

 

Time had flown by unbelievably fast.

 

It had been a year to the day that he and Ron had woken up, tangled around one another, smelling of sex and contentment. He remembered the stiffness in his joints from the way they’d laid together on the hard stairs for at least an hour after their reunion lovemaking. On rainy days he bitterly swore his hips were still suffering for it.

 

It had therefore been a year to the day that he had stumbled downstairs to make them breakfast in bed to pick up the morning paper and have his stomach drop out. He had flown back up the stairs and wordlessly shoved the sheaf of parchment at Ron, unable to find the devastating words with which to explain.

 

The redhead’s cover, which should have been so simply kept, had been shattered. The night that they had spent entwined, kissing, and grunting, exploring every inch of one another’s bodies, there had been a carefully executed raid on the whorehouse which Ron had then only recently left.

 

It was a year to the very day that the old, spiteful hag that ran the establishment shouted to the assembled reporters on her arrest that Ronald Weasley, returned boy hero, had been her number one whore for two whole years.

 

Severus didn’t think his mind would ever let him forget the look of horror which crossed over the redhead’s face; the way the blood bleached out of his skin as though he had slashed his arteries like Severus had so feared him doing. The tears had welled up, fallen, been replaced, splashed on the cheap parchment like a waterfall until it was a soggy mess, much like the man that had made it so.

 

The happiness they had attained in one night seemed to dissipate like snow beneath the sun’s glare. Severus remembered how he had climbed onto the very bed that currently sat upon, and held the shaking wreck in his arms, stroking his flaming hair as if it would do any good. He had often wondered what Ron would look like as he cried, but as he saw the painfully swollen eyes and dripping cheeks, he wished he had never been granted his chance to be party to such sorrow.

 

If nothing had been cemented between them before, Ron had looked up amidst the flow of agony and shame, and whispered the words which had sent Severus spiralling over the edge of the precipice he had been so wilfully clinging to all his life.

 

_“I can’t do this alone.”_

Merely remembering it sent his heart into an off-rhythm beat, hearing the fear in those words. Severus had always understood that fear completely. For some reason, the woman had never named him, but Ron immediately assumed that Severus would run from him, merely because anybody who knew them, anyone who knew about his return, would read between the lines and conclude the truth: that Severus Snape had found Ronald Weasley in a whorehouse, and used him for a time.

 

Ron had whispered that he was sorry, over and over, that he had inadvertently blown Severus’ great sexuality secret, but sitting holding him, Severus couldn’t even consider it as a problem. All that mattered, all that would ever matter, he had realised at that moment, was making the man he held in his arms feel safe, warm and happy –everything the whorehouse and his past had robbed from him.

 

And if that meant love, then Severus had been willing to sacrifice his heart to it. He would even have wielded the knife.

 

So, of course, he had.

 

The past year had been wrought with tension and hurt, written in everything from seeing Ron’s eyes widen with every received letter of hate from the public, to being spat on in the street by an ex-client, to the man facing investigation for his old employment.

 

Severus had never admitted it out loud, but the redhead had escaped Azkaban by the skin of his teeth, saved only by his direct connection to the Minister for Magic. The mere thought made him want to heave. Ron, as he had stood then –six foot two of skin and bone, jangling nerves and worried eyes, that Ron would barely have survived five minutes in the middle of the freezing North Sea.

 

And then there had been the familial explanations, the look on Molly Weasley’s face when she realised that her little boy had been fucking his way through Knockturn’s most salubrious inhabitants. Furthering that, there were the revelations of his sexuality, and then, as raspberries on top of the cheesecake, the fact that he had chosen to fall in love with a man who had once been on his slice of the whorehouse nightly client sheet. Severus had been there through it all, burning deeply with his own shame and never once letting it show on his face, forcing himself to focus on supporting Ron.

 

Taking a deep breath, Severus pressed into his eyeballs once more, and released the air again. His day was not going to be an easy one. He wished that he could hide beneath his duvet like a scared child, and not acknowledge the fact of what was happening.

 

He forced his hands away from his eyes and looked down at his black-clad legs, his expression glum.

 

_Everyone will be there, and it’s so hard to face them, even now…_

Wondering if age and circumstance had finally withered him to the point where he could no longer face society, Severus pushed up off the bed and walked to the side, picking up the pillow which smelt of rose and vanilla. He hugged it to his chest and lost himself in the aroma, wondering how his year would have gone had the first whore he had frequented never taken the initiative to end his own life.

 

_How many times, Severus; it is terribly macabre to thank someone for offing themselves purely because it brought you love you thought unimaginable!_

A gentle smile spread on his lips as he gave the pillow a squeeze. And then there was a voice behind him, and he guiltily dropped it.

 

“Oh, for God’s sake, Severus,” Ron stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips. “Are you still fucking whinging because you have to stand up in front of your godson’s friends and family and say a few words at his wedding?”

 

Severus scowled, chasing away the horrible memories of the past year. Ron stood before him almost a transformed figure. There was a nearly rosy glow in his fuller cheeks, his body was filled out in all the right ways, and his hair was deliciously long. Stood in elegant robes of blue, his own signature hue which matched his sapphire eyes, the twenty-four-year-old looked a physical vision of vitality.

 

It was enough to make Severus smirk in reply. “No, merely recounting over the year is all. I am perfectly prepared for my speech.”

“Did you put in that part about ‘pretentious little wanker at school’?” Ron asked hopefully, his eyebrows lifting.

“No,” Severus swaggered towards him, a disapproving look on his face. He slid his palms over Ron’s waist and pulled him close. “I doubt such a thing would go down well on such a joyful occasion.”

 

“There, you said it,” Ron jabbed him in the chest with an index finger. “A _joyful_ occasion. So why do you look like you’re going to a funeral?”

“I do believe the colour black has a bad name,” Severus narrowed his eyes. “And that it should be aired on every occasion to better improve its fortune.”

 

“You’re full of shit,” Ron snorted, and leant in to kiss him gently.

 

In that kiss, Severus found everything that the past year had made Ron. It was firm and manly, yet at the same time wonderfully soft.

 

“It’s because I’ve spent a year listening to your bloody awful claptrap analogies,” Severus informed him.

 

_A year of learning, a year of learning how a proper relationship works, seeing as it’s the first one you’ve ever had…_

Severus was so relieved that they had both come through it in tact that he couldn’t even bring himself to be ashamed that up until his mid-forties he had never been loved enough for someone to decide to date him. Ron teased him frequently, and the man’s brothers did worse, but it was water off Severus’ back after the trying year.

 

Neither of them were what anybody would call well. Severus never voiced the opinion, due to supreme tact retained from his years of serving a highly volatile master in the Dark Lord, but he wasn’t sure that Ron would ever be _completely_ well. But no matter how many times he had to provide his shoulder, how many times he listened to and sympathised about how the healers treated Ron like a maniac, Severus knew he would never tire of what they stood doing in the doorway to his bedroom. And he hoped that Ron would never tire of him, either; never tire of his insecurity, of his inability to see the good in himself, of his fear of trusting and his hesitancy in loving Ron as freely as he wanted to.

 

He lowered his head and kissed a sloppy trail along Ron’s jawline, dripping down onto his throat and causing the redhead to tip his head back with a long, low moan.

 

“Sev-er _us_ ,” he breathed, trying to break away, but the older man’s arms prevented him from doing so. “We can’t, the wedding…”

“Is an hour away,” Severus didn’t remove his lips from the soft flesh and nipped playfully.

“Look, you randy old sod, your godson will never forgive you if you miss this, it’s bad enough that Malfoy Tosser Senior was too unwell to make the trip… don’t hurt him this way because you can’t control yourself.”

 

Huffing, Severus straightened, his eyes glittering with mischief. “I wonder of all the things we could do in an hour…” he drawled.

“We will travel to the Manor, I will make sarcastic comments about the peacocks and Draco overcompensating _something_ ,” Ron waggled his eyebrows, “And then he will get married. And you will do your bloody job of walking Narcissa down the aisle.”

 

“You don’t allow me any fun,” Severus sighed desolately.

“Oh, pull the other one,” Ron muttered, and turned away, but Severus yanked him back into a searing kiss. “Mmph, fuck it…”

Severus smirked against his lips as he felt Ron’s erection through his robes. “I want to ask you something,” he swiped one last time with his tongue.

 

“For the hundredth time, my mother does _not_ have any more embarrassing baby photos,” Ron growled menacingly.

“Not that you know of,” Severus dismissed him condescendingly. “But no, my enquiry was of a much more… domestic nature, actually.”

“Do go on,” Ron sighed and leant against the door frame, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his ankles.

 

Severus took pause to drink in the willowy frame.

 

“I think I am in need of a promise to make this blasted day of overblown ceremony better,” he lifted his chin and looked Ron dead in the eyes. “We’ve been together a year now…”

 

Ron’s face softened and he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

 

The year had been rough on him. If one more stranger told him that Harry Potter would have been disgusted with him, he thought he might actually break down in the street and cry. Despite the fact he knew very differently, that Harry had only ever wanted him safe, the painful words cut Ron every time they lashed like a whip.

 

He had not felt Harry since the last night in his old flat, and he missed him terribly. He had only ever confessed to Severus about the spiritual presence of his deceased best friend, and miraculously the man had never treated him like he deserved to be committed, which was kinder than some of his healers had managed, and they were the professionals.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Ron murmured.

 

“Well, I think that it’s high time that we move on.”

“What?” Ron gasped, his face blanching white. “You mean, you’re break-”

“Oh, Godric’s balls, _no,_ you bloody _pessimist_ ,” Severus reached out a placating hand to counter the droll sarcasm in his tone. “No, Ron. I was actually about to ask if you would like to _finally_ abandon your Chudley Cannons infested childhood bedroom, and officially move in… with me. And the cat, of course, seeing as she loves you far more than she loves me.”

 

Ron swayed, momentarily stunned at the offer Severus had made. It was hardly fast, they had known each other for a year, seen each other nearly every single day of the three hundred and sixty five, and Ron already spent more time in the tiny little cottage in Sussex than he cared to chart for keeping his dignity.

 

“Say something,” Severus urged him, reaching up to brush Ron’s fringe out of his eyes, nerves beginning to take hold of his stomach.

 

“Yes,” Ron blinked, and grabbed Severus in his arms. “Fucking yes.”

 

Severus kissed him, deeply and soulfully, massaging one hand at the nape of Ron’s neck. Ron responded with such enthusiasm that he made the tall man stagger backwards into the bedroom.

 

They broke apart at the lips, exchanging a shy, pleasured glance. Ron closed his eyes and breathed in the tea and honey scent that had proved his comfort over the last year, even though it came from the most unexpected source in the world. He kissed again, and again, until he was in danger of sending his lover backwards onto the bed.

 

“I wish you didn’t have such a sense of honour,” Severus looked mournfully behind him at the waiting mattress. “Draco would understand. Slytherins love to be what is known as fashionably late… only your Gryffindor sense of loyalty has you running to engagements on time.”

 

Ron looked at Severus and heavily rolled his eyes. “Draco would have your balls.”

 

“My balls are yours and yours alone,” Severus raised an eyebrow, the oft-hidden playful side spilling out of him in his joy of what Ron had just agreed to do.

 

Ron smirked. “Fine, Severus,” he approached, slinging his hips in a way which made his bones ache, and he almost pined for how out of shape he had become in just a year. He reached out large hands, spread his fingers, and sent the tall dark man sprawling back onto the duvet.

 

Black robes billowed outwards, and his hair flopped upwards with the motion, landing half across his face. Ron leapt on him, pinning him to the bed.

 

“You think you can take Draco? My Gryffindor recklessness can aide your need to be fashionably late.”

 

He covered Severus’ lips with his own and transferred everything unsaid into the kiss, not just from that morning, but from an entire year of unfailing support and devotion that Severus had gifted upon him. For every tear mopped up, every cup of tea made, and more still for every tear and cup yet to be produced, he poured his thank you into the man’s mouth and wondered if it would ever be enough. He laced his fingers into silky black hair and tugged on it, angling Severus’ face against his own for a deeper kiss, and continued orally adoring his slowly mending lover.

 

It was no surprise that when Severus was released he had the appearance of being smacked around the head with a bludger.

 

“What on earth was that in aid of?” He wheezed.

 

Ron thought for a moment, before replying, “For stretching out on my grave, and yanking me out of it.”

 

Severus looked up at him and knew they had stumbled upon one of ‘those’ moments where neither of them knew what else to say. His heart thudded beneath his oppressive black robes, and the heat crept up into his neck.

 

He did the only the thing he could think of, faced with the intensity of their surprising union –he kissed the redhead back, and held onto him tightly.

 

_-fin-_


End file.
